


Daddy Loves You

by ThatHalGuy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abusive Parent, Abusive Relationship, Author is a Terrible Person, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, GHB is a Terrible Person, Humanstuck, M/M, Non-Consensual, Rape, Self Harm, seriously, this is NOT okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-06-17 01:10:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15450045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatHalGuy/pseuds/ThatHalGuy
Summary: Being a powerful, wealthy businessman means one can get away with things. When that businessman's name is Grant Makara, he can get away with a lot more than most, with his imposing stature, harsh demeanor, and having the empathy of a rockslide.Recently he's had his eye on a particular prize that he will stop at nothing to claim.It all started late one night...





	1. The First

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hello, Terrible Person(TM) speaking. So, it finally happened. My terribleness has reached this point. Sorry.
> 
> In all seriousness, the tags are not joking. There is straight up, blatant, in your face rape. If that is not your cuppa tea, PLEASE RUN NOW. Run away and spare yourselves the uncomfortable feelings this will bring.
> 
> For those readers who are also Terrible People(TM), consider yourself warned if you also discover this is not okay with you. And for those who are my level of Terrible, and just want to see their characters Bloody Broken and Bruised, continue at your leisure.

It all started late one night. Kurloz felt like he’d barely fallen asleep when a hand pressed against his back, rolling him onto his stomach. He squirmed, trying to blink away the sleep and comprehend what was going on, but his mumbled question was muffled by the pillow his face was pressed into. The hand on his back was large and broad, and a bit more squirming to turn his head confirmed the massive shadow of his father.

“Dad?” He asked, but he was only shushed, the hand moving down his back to his ass, squeezing. Kurloz tried to twist away, only for his father’s other hand to shove him down again, pinning his shoulder.

“Stay still.” The older man growled, and Kurloz’s blood turned to ice,

“W-what are you doing?” He bit his lip as his father palmed his ass again, ignoring the question. The hand gripped his hip, pulling him up, and Kurloz couldn’t help but gasp, forced onto his knees and leaving his hips jutting into the air. No, no, this wasn’t happening. He couldn’t- His pants were tugged down roughly, and Kurloz whimpered, “Dad, please, stop! Don’t do this!” Again he was hushed, and the bed dipped heavily under the large man’s weight.

“Keep your voice down.” He ordered, “Don’t wanna wake up your brother, do you?” Kurloz cringed, attempting to reach back and rescue his pants, only for his father to grab one wrist and twist his arm painfully, making him gasp, biting the pillow to muffle his cry. “Good boy.” The tone was mockingly sweet, and it made Kurloz’s stomach turn, just as the feeling of his father’s underwear pressing against his exposed ass made him want to run out of the room and never come back.

“Dad, stop.” He pleaded desperately, “This isn’t funny.” His father hummed quietly, and Kurloz wished he couldn’t feel something twitch under that thin cloth. He squirmed, trying to get his arm free, only to gasp as it was twisted a little further, threatening serious damage.

“Just be a good boy for Daddy and I’ll treat you nice.” Kurloz whimpered, gripping the pillow with his free hand as the man’s hips moved back, and the hands let go of him. He could run. He wanted so desperately to run. But with his pants around his knees, in such a vulnerable position, he wouldn’t get far before his father caught him again. If he tried to flee, it could mean this would be way worse than it already was. Fear of consequence kept him in place as the sound of a cap popping open invaded the tense quiet. Kurloz didn’t want to look, could only scrunch his eyes shut and cling to his pillow.

“Don’t… Please don’t…” He whimpered, but his father only responded by pressing a slick finger against his ass, the cool fluid making Kurloz jolt and shy away. His father wasted no time in pressing the finger in, and Kurloz yelped into the pillow, arching and trying to pull away. The other hand pulled his hips back as the finger forced its way in, thrusting slowly to widen him out. Kurloz sobbed, clawing at the pillow, unable to escape the stinging violation.

“Hmm… Never played with yourself, have you?” His father commented offhandedly, as if he were mentioning the weather, “Good. Daddy was hoping to be your first.”

“No!” Kurloz sobbed, making a futile attempt to pull away, “No, no, please! Stop it!” His father only pushed his finger in the rest of the way sharply, forcing a cry from Kurloz as he jolted,

“I said  _ quiet _ .” He growled warningly, and Kurloz buried his face in the pillow, sobbing through shuddering breaths, flinching as the finger pulled back, rocking in and out, the steady rhythm working to loosen his tense muscles. “That’s better. Wouldn’t want your dear little brother to see you like this, would you?” Kurloz whined pathetically, and his father chuckled, “That’s right. Can’t let him see you bent over for Daddy.” Kurloz’s back arched when the finger pulled back and a second pressed in with it, his breath caught in his throat, “Don’t want him to see how your ass swallows up my fingers.”

“D-dad,  _ please _ .” Kurloz begged, legs trembling as he weakly tried to escape the invasive pain, “S-stop…” His father groaned quietly, the fingers thrusting into him,

“Can’t let your brother know you’re making Daddy hard.” He continued, “Such a good boy.” Kurloz wanted to throw up, or to disappear, or- Anything but be here, in this moment. The fingers were soon joined by a third, and Kurloz barely muffled his cry of pain,

“N-no! I-it’s too much! T-take them out, I-I can’t-!” He was only rewarded with the fingers continuing to press into him, widening him out in spite of the pain. “Please!” Kurloz sobbed, his voice ragged, “N-no more!” His father chuckled, leaning over him,

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He purred, his deep voice rumbling against Kurloz’s back, “Daddy hasn’t even started.” Kurloz’s heart sank, and tears flowed from his eyes. There was nothing he could do, was there? His father would have his way, no matter what. He clawed at the bed, trying to pull away, only to be pulled right back to the large man and the fate he couldn’t escape.

It felt like the minutes stretched on, Kurloz making pathetic pleas for it to end, futile attempts to get away, but the fingers eventually pulled out, and something much bigger and firmer rubbed against him. Kurloz struggled as best he could, a last ditch attempt to flee his fate, but his father only used his squirming as an excuse to rub his cock on Kurloz’s ass before pulling back and beginning to press against him.

“No, no, nononono- AGH!!” Kurloz spasmed as the head forced its way in, unable to hold back the loud cry of pain, hands twisting in the sheets. His father groaned, wrapping an arm around him and pressing against his back,

“Mmm, it’s even better than I imagined… Daddy’s little boy is so tight…” Kurloz could barely register the words, struggling to breathe as more and more pressed into him, as if it would never end, and he thought he might tear apart, “There’s a good boy. Take it all, Daddy’s gonna fill you up.” Kurloz choked out a sob, his legs shaking too hard to support him, only held up by his father,

“S-st-stop… Pl-please…” The lean one whimpered, but still went ignored. By the time their hips pressed together, Kurloz was trembling all over, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His father straightened up, and Kurloz could almost feel his dark eyes raking over his body, taking in his vulnerable, helpless appearance. The twitch inside him was too clear of an indication of what he thought of the view, and Kurloz buried his face in his pillow, damp with sweat and tears,

“Damn, you look so good…” The praise only made him want to crawl in a hole and die, “Such a sweet boy, filled to bursting with Daddy’s cock.” Another twitch he didn’t want to feel, “Maybe we should let your brother see this.” No, no, anything but that. “Show him how deep Daddy can get in you.” He felt humiliated enough. “How you look like Daddy’s little whore, whimpering and begging like that.” Kurloz sobbed as he pulled back, nearly leaving him completely, only to pause, letting Kurloz feel how empty it was,

“D-Dad…” He whimpered hoarsely, and his father gripped his hips, his voice the rolling thunder of an impending storm,

“Or we’ll just let the whole neighborhood hear you.” Kurloz didn’t have time to react before the massive cock slammed into him again, and all he could do was scream. Each merciless shove of his father’s hips was agony, each slap of skin was like a slap to the face, and the bruising grip on his skin might as well be dragging him down into Hell. His screams tore up his throat, leaving his voice hoarse and cracking, his body too weak to do more than spasm with each jolt of pain that shot through him. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Time meant nothing any more, the moment felt like it would last forever.

When his father did finally stop, it was only to press deep inside of him, letting out a deep groan as he came, and bitter tears stung Kurloz’s eyes. He felt disgusting. Utterly violated and broken. Dying would have been more welcome than this. Maybe he should. His father pulled out, sighing and caressing Kurloz’s rumpled hair,

“Such a good boy.” The loving tone made him sick, “Filled up with Daddy’s cum, looking so nice…” Kurloz shifted away weakly, only to hiss in pain. Everything hurt. “Daddy didn’t go too rough on you did he?” Yes. But the word wouldn’t leave his throat. “You felt so good, Daddy couldn’t help himself.” The hand rubbed down his back, and Kurloz whined, a weak, broken sound, “Daddy loves you.” Kurloz just wanted to be left alone. Suddenly the hand rubbing his back moved up to his neck, squeezing warningly as the caring tone became cold, “Breathe a word about this to anyone, and I’ll make you regret it.” Kurloz looked up at the looming silhouette, the dark shadow where his eyes would be. The large man could make him suffer in any number of ways. Death was too merciful. Kurloz nodded lightly, and the grip loosened, the taller one standing from the bed. Kurloz glanced toward the door, remembering his brother. If he had-

“Don’t worry about Gamzee.” His eyes snapped up to his father again, “I sent him to a friend’s house for the night.” Kurloz couldn’t tell if he was relieved Gamzee hadn’t been here to hear what happened, or all the more fearful that there were no witnesses. His father left the room, and Kurloz lay there, staring at the darkness. What was he supposed to do now? Just pretend nothing happened? How could he hide the immense pain he was in? He doubted he’d be able to walk for a while. He was too exhausted to cry anymore, so he just lay there, wishing he could be anywhere but in this house, anywhere away from his father.


	2. The Claiming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurloz tries to put awful memories behind him, to move on. Unfortunately, Grant has other plans.
> 
> What Daddy wants, Daddy gets.

The second time was no less welcome than the first. Kurloz had endured a week of recovering from the abuse, of pretending nothing was wrong around his brother, had finally hoped to be done with everything when Gamzee announced he’d be spending the weekend at his friend’s house, and their father had wished him well dismissively. A weekend. Alone with his father. None of his friends were free to give him an excuse to flee. As soon as Gamzee was in his friend’s car and out of the driveway, Kurloz found himself grabbed by the shoulder and shoved against the wall, his back hitting it with a painful thud. All protest was smothered as his father crushed their lips together in a hungry kiss. Kurloz tried to shove him back, but he was too lean, and his father too strong. A hand pushed up under his sweater, feeling how his muscles strained to force him back. When he finally broke the kiss, Kurloz gasped for air, shoving the hand away,

“No!” He shouted firmly, glaring at the larger man as he tried to pull free of the grip on his shoulder, “Let go of me!” His father chuckled, lips curving in a cruel smirk,

“No.” He replied, capturing Kurloz’s wrists and pinning them to the wall above his head, “You belong to me, and I’ll do as I please with you.” Kurloz struggled, kicking at the older man, who just grabbed his thigh, hoisting him up to press their groins together. Kurloz gasped involuntarily, and his father grinned, “Daddy’s little boy has to learn that what Daddy wants, Daddy gets.” Kurloz shook his head,

“NO! I don’t belong to you!!” He cried, but his father was undeterred, and only grinned wider, eyes gleaming with a dark hunger,

“Then I’ll have to teach you.” His hands moved, lifting Kurloz onto his broad shoulder to carry him through the house and to the master bedroom. The lean one struggled and shouted the whole way, but nothing stopped his father from tossing him onto the bed once the door was shut and locked. He grabbed Kurloz’s sweater, tugging it off of him before pinning him to the bed, cuffs emerging from beneath the pillows to lock his arms above his head.

“You can’t do this!!” Kurloz cried desperately, already shaking, “Please, Dad, stop!!” His father hummed in appreciation, stripping Kurloz of his pants and underwear once he couldn’t escape. Now bare, he took the time to admire Kurloz, hands roaming up the smaller one’s thighs, spreading them,

“I can’t wait to be inside your tight ass again.” He mused, and Kurloz swallowed the lump in his throat,

“Please, no… Not again…” His voice trembled now, and fear twisted his stomach. His father ignored the plea, getting up to fetch a bottle from his bedside table, popping the cap and pouring the lube on his fingers. Kurloz tugged on the cuffs, struggling to break free as his father knelt between his legs again, “No, please, Dad, I’m begging you- Please,  _ no!! _ ” The hand paused, finger barely brushing his entrance, and his father met his fearful gaze with a hard look.

“Who do you belong to?” He asked, and Kurloz tugged on the cuffs again, tears falling from his eyes,

“Please, don’t!!” His father scowled, waiting for an answer, and Kurloz sobbed, “No one! I don’t belong to anyone!” The scowl only deepened.

“Wrong answer.” The finger shoved inside him, and Kurloz cried out, writhing as the finger thrust roughly in and out, giving him no time to adjust. He begged for it to stop, but only received a second finger a few moments later. The third followed, and when they pulled out again, Kurloz was a trembling mess, hiccupped sobs interrupting his gasps for air as his father undid his belt and pants, pushing the cloth out of the way to stroke lube onto his shaft. Kurloz pressed his legs together to hide, but they were shoved apart again, one hooked over a broad shoulder as the older man pressed against Kurloz’s entrance.

“No more…” Kurloz begged, “Please, no more.” His father reached over, grabbing Kurloz’s chin and forcing their eyes to meet.

“Who do you belong to?” He asked again, and Kurloz struggled weakly,

“N-no one…” His father scowled, and his hand moved to grip Kurloz’s hip,

“Wrong answer.” Kurloz screamed as he was brutally invaded and fucked, screamed until his voice was raw, until his limbs couldn’t move, until his father came inside him, lingering there to survey how debauched Kurloz looked. Kurloz winced as he pulled out, in too much pain to try and curl up to hide, too exhausted to cry any more. A hand caressed his cheek, and he met his father’s eyes again, “You belong to me.” He said firmly, leaning down to press their lips together, murmuring to him, “Daddy loves you.” He stood, walking to the bathroom, leaving Kurloz to lie there.

He returned a few minutes later, having changed into a simple shirt and his boxers, settling on the bed beside Kurloz, softly petting his hair. Kurloz struggled to move, but managed to roll onto his side, facing away from the man, who scoffed, rubbing Kurloz’s back instead.

“Just leave me alone.” Kurloz croaked, though it didn’t stop his father from touching him.

“We have all weekend.” He said bluntly, “There is so much I have planned for you.” Kurloz whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut,

“I don’t want it.” That earned him a chuckle,

“But you will. Once you realize you belong to me.” Too worn out to argue, Kurloz just buried his face in a pillow, cursing his weakness, cursing his father. If only he had been able to make him stop. If only he could have escaped. He’d have run, run far away from the house and never looked back. Maybe run to the police. Maybe to his friend with the lawyer mom. Would it be enough? Would telling them bring enough retribution down on the man to make up for how he’d hurt Kurloz? He curled up, hindered by the cuffs on his wrists, and he glared at them. He was powerless. He hated it. He hated being at this man’s mercy, when he had none. His own son. He was willing to do this to his own son.

He must have laid there for an hour, soaked in his negative thoughts, before he was rolled onto his back and forced to look up at his father. He grimaced when he saw his face, turning his head away. He wished he had the energy to throw up.

“Look at me.” His father demanded, but Kurloz shook his head. His jaw was grabbed harshly, and jerked around so their eyes met, staring back at the dark, burning scowl above him, “You will do as I say.” Kurloz’s lip curled in a sneer, and he twisted his head, trying to pull away, but his father wouldn’t release his crushing grip. “Either you do as your told, or I make you do it.” He growled, but Kurloz didn’t want anything to do with him. His father gave an irritated sigh, reaching up to unlock the cuffs and pull Kurloz to his chest. Kurloz struggled as best he could while still in aching pain, but he found himself sat on the floor at the foot of the bed with his father seated above him, a hand combing through his hair. Kurloz tried to lean away, only to gasp as the hand suddenly gripped his hair and pulled him back, and he threw a spiteful glare at the bigger man,

“I hate you.” He hissed, but his father just smirked, easing up the hold to pet him again,

“Who do you belong to?” This fucking question again. Kurloz glared at the smug face,

“No one.” He spat, yelping as his hair was twisted painfully, forcing him closer to his father, between his legs and far too close to the boxers that made no effort to hide the hard penis within,

“I’ll ask you one more time.” His father said calmly, pulling his erection free. Kurloz flinched back slightly when it touched his lips, the skin hot and demanding, “Who do you belong to?” Kurloz swallowed hard, unable to move back with the painful grip in his hair, unable to do more than face inevitability. Still, he didn’t want to give in.

“No one.” A thumb hooked in his mouth, and his stomach dropped as his jaw was forced open,

“Wrong answer.” He was tugged forward, and he could barely cry out before the massive cock invaded his mouth, and he was choking on its girth, clawing at his father’s thighs in a desperate attempt to pull back. He couldn’t breathe, his gag reflex couldn’t take it, and yet he was still being forced further, tears stinging his eyes as his stomach heaved. There was nothing to reject, and his father only groaned at how his throat spasmed, trying to push out the unrelenting intrusion, “Come on, you can take more than that.” He muttered, pulling Kurloz down further. The younger was starting to see spots on his vision, unable to breathe, his jaw stretched to the limit, dry heaves rattling his body. Finally he was pulled back, and he gasped for air, coughing and heaving once the cock was out of his mouth. “Good boy.” He hated that sweet tone. He dug his nails into his father’s thighs, but the attack was only answered by the hand in his hair pulling his head up. Kurloz panted heavily, glaring at his father’s smirk,

“I… hate you…” He gasped, but the smirk remained,

“I’m going to fuck your mouth.” His father stated simply, “I’m going to cum down your throat, and you’ll swallow it like a good little boy.” His jaw was forced open again, and he struggled against the hand pulling him toward the monstrosity again, “Daddy’s good little cockslut.” Kurloz had no time to protest before he was choking on the hot flesh again, the hand in his hair moving his head up and down the shaft, only giving him seconds to gasp for air before his throat was filled again. He shut his eyes tightly, struggling to get enough oxygen at the unforgiving pace, only able to claw at his father’s thighs in a vain attempt to deter him. He didn’t want to think about the praise being murmured to him, how the roiling in his gut was the need to throw up, and the pit of disgust for himself. He wanted this to be over already.

But even at such a brutal pace, it still took far too long before his father dragged his head down one last time, and hot liquid filled his throat. Kurloz spasmed as he heaved again, his abdomen ached from the effort, his throat felt raw, and he wondered if his jaw would ever work right again. His father pulled his head back, and Kurloz gasped, only for a hand to clamp over his mouth, making his cough more strained.

“Swallow.” The order was harsh, and Kurloz struggled weakly. He could taste the bitter fluid at the back of his throat, wanted to give in to his stomach and reject it, but the hand prevented it. “Swallow it.” Again, the demand. Kurloz fought the urge to heave, forcing himself to swallow, despite how much his throat hurt with the action. Satisfied, his father let go of him, smiling, “There’s a good boy.” His hand stroked Kurloz’s cheek, “Daddy loves you.” No he didn’t. Kurloz turned his head away, biting back the bitter retort. “It’s almost lunch, you should get some food.” God, the thought of putting anything in his stomach made him feel ill. He attempted to get up, gritting his teeth to stand on shaky legs,

“M’not hungry.” He mumbled, his voice raspy from the assault on his throat. His father chuckled, reaching out to hold his hips and steady him,

“Of course. You’re full of Daddy’s cum after all.” Kurloz shuddered, feeling even more ill and trying to get away from the older man, who pulled him closer instead, “You looked so good sucking Daddy’s cock. Almost as good as when Daddy fucked your tight ass.” Kurloz whined, struggling to get away as a hand slid up his thigh, “I can’t wait to do more to you.” Kurloz shoved the hands off, stumbling to the door and collapsing there, shaking uncontrollably. He gripped the handle, fighting to unlock it so he could escape. He needed to get away from his father. The door opened and Kurloz pulled himself to his feet, stumbling down the hall to his room, using the wall for support.

Once in his room, he locked the door and slid to the floor, sobbing into his hands. Not even his room felt safe after last week. His father had destroyed his sanctuary in just one night and left him a broken mess. He had no one to save him. Nothing could fix this. He hated his father, but he especially hated himself for not being strong enough to stop it. He crawled over to his closet, pulling the door open and digging around inside. He kept a gift from his brother buried away in here, and right now he was too emotionally unstable. He needed the help. The little bag of green looked so welcoming, and it took all his concentration to handle the herb and paper in his shaking hands. Once lit, Kurloz took a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting the smoke linger in his lungs, allowing the marijuana to seep into his system before slowly letting out a sigh, deflating with the cloud of smoke. The simple high would help him calm down, if only for a little while. He stowed the rest away and curled up against the wall, taking his time to savor each inhale. He could at least forget his aches for now, watching his colorful lantern spin, casting its lights on the walls in soothing tones. He missed the simple days of just hanging out with his brother while Dad ignored them. What changed? Why had his father suddenly taken interest in him? The lights swirled, and his eyes unfocused, watching them blur together in a colorful mural. Would he ever escape?

He lingered there for what felt like minutes, but upon blinking out of his trance, found hours had passed by. Reality still felt awful, but he got up to get dressed anyway, limping to the door and taking a deep breath. He braced himself and unlocked the door, slipping out into the hallway and heading for the kitchen. He prayed he wouldn’t run into his father, but still fully expected to be found by him sooner or later. He dug out a bag of chips, opening it to munch on while he got out microwave popcorn and set it to cook. Once it was done, he settled on the couch, curling up to watch TV and give his aching legs a rest. At least his throat didn’t hurt much now.

“There you are.” Sure enough, his father strolled into the room, still in boxers and t-shirt, and came closer to pet his hair. Kurloz pushed the hand away with a little growl, not looking away from the TV,

“Go away.” He grumbled, munching his popcorn angrily. As usual, his father ignored him, moving around to sit on the couch beside him, draping an arm around his shoulders,

“After all Daddy has done for you?” He mocked, and Kurloz narrowed his eyes,

“After everything you did  _ to _ me. I hate you, so go away.” He crunched another mouthful of popcorn, curling up a little tighter as tense silence settled between them. Kurloz finished his popcorn, crumpling the bag and starting to get up, only for his father to grab him, pulling him down into his large lap. Of fucking  _ course _ . Kurloz growled, fighting the grip holding him down, “Let go of me.” He demanded, but his father held his hips firmly, chuckling against his neck,

“What Daddy wants, Daddy gets.” He purred, and Kurloz gasped as his father rolled his hips grinding against his ass, “And good little boys give Daddy what he wants.” Kurloz struggled again, but only succeeded in squirming against his father, eliciting a groan from him, “That’s it, there’s my good boy.” Kurloz grit his teeth, angry tears stinging his eyes,

“Let go of me!” He shouted, going ignored again as his father rocked his hips rhythmically,

“Daddy would love to see you ride him.” He mused, and Kurloz tensed, trying to pull away again, “Watch you bounce on Daddy’s cock.” One hand moved to squeeze Kurloz’s ass, hooking a thumb on his waistband, pausing, “Wonder if you’re still all stretched out for me.” Kurloz’s breath hitched, and he struggled again, though it only succeeded in helping his father tug his pants down, exposing his ass.

“No! Let me go!” Kurloz cried, gasping as a finger pressed to his sore entrance, threatening to go in.

“Hm…” His father took his time, considering the resistance, “Guess not. Daddy will just have to open you up again.” Kurloz squirmed helplessly as his father produced the bottle of lube from somewhere, getting his fingers coated before hoisting Kurloz up slightly, pinned to his chest. Kurloz struggled as the hand pushed between his thighs, brushing a slick finger against him, “Who do you belong to?” Kurloz whimpered quietly, digging his nails into the arm holding him up,

“N-no one!” He cried, but his father shook his head, pushing the finger inside. Kurloz writhed, sobbing as the dull ache became worse, “T-take it out!!” He gasped, “Please, it hurts, take it out!” His father sighed, thrusting the finger steadily,

“Maybe you’ll answer correctly next time, and Daddy won’t have to punish you.” Kurloz sobbed, clawing at his father’s arm, unable to escape as his insides were further abused. When his father pulled the finger out, he paused again and repeated the question. Kurloz shook his head, shaking and breathless,

“N-no one.” He insisted weakly, spasming as two fingers shoved into him mercilessly. His father kept them moving at a harsh pace, and Kurloz could only cry out at the pain. Again, he pulled out his fingers and paused,

“Who do you belong to?” Kurloz sobbed, trembling weakly against his father,

“No more…” He whimpered, “No more, please…” His father repeated the question, pressing his fingers to Kurloz’s hole. “N-no one…” He tried, crying out as three fingers forced their way into him, spreading him out ruthlessly. He couldn’t take it anymore, unable to even fight back, just yelping in pain and sobbing. Finally the fingers left, and Kurloz got a chance to breathe, even if it was just so his father could pull his legs up and take off his pants, guiding him to kneel over his father’s lap. His legs trembled, and he was forced to brace on the larger man’s knees or risk pitching forward off the couch. His father’s boxers shifted, and he sighed, stroking lube onto himself,

“You look so beautiful, spread out like that for me…” His father mused, no doubt raking his eyes over Kurloz’s prone body, “Daddy’s little boy…” He groaned quietly, and Kurloz risked a glance back, watching his father continue stroking himself a little longer, their eyes meeting and the older man grinning, “But you want Daddy inside you again, don’t you? You want Daddy’s big cock filling you up. Make you so full you never want to be empty again.” Kurloz didn’t have the energy to argue, hanging his head and staring at his trembling hands. Large hands guided him back, the head brushing against his abused entrance making him flinch. Again, he paused. “Who do you belong to?” Fresh tears filled his eyes, and Kurloz took a shaky breath. He didn’t want to hurt again. He wanted it to stop, but his resistance only made it worse. He was so exhausted, so sore…

“Y-you…” He whispered, “I-I belong… to you…” The firm grip on his hip lessened, thumb stroking the forming bruises,

“That’s my good boy.” His voice was soft, and instead of pulling Kurloz down abruptly, it was slower, giving him time to adjust as the broad head opened him up and began to sink in. Kurloz took a shuddering breath, hyper aware of the stinging ache as inch after inch pressed into him gradually. It hurt, but not as violently as before, and his father murmured gentle praise and encouragement. Once Kurloz was fully seated, he let out the breath he forgot he was holding, biting his lip. Again, he felt he might burst from the sheer size inside him, but the warm hands sliding up and down his sides were so gentle, he almost forgot they were the same hands that left him aching and bruised. “How’s it feel?” Kurloz blinked as one hand moved to his belly, petting softly. Looking down, he swore there was a bump that hadn’t been there before, and his father’s hand caressed it lovingly, “How does it feel to have Daddy so deep inside you?” Kurloz’s inner muscles flexed around the massive intruder, and he winced at the sting it sent up his spine,

“It hurts…” He began, his voice trembling a little, “It… It feels like I’ll tear apart…” His father guided him back, to lean against his broad chest, and the bulge in his abdomen became more noticeable, making him shiver. He was so thin, and it was so big…

“Daddy loves you.” His father murmured by his ear, hands caressing his belly and down to his thighs, spreading them a little more, “And Daddy’s gonna fill you with cum.” Kurloz wanted to refuse, to tear away and escape, but the longer he sat there, the more he realized he was too tired to fight any more. Instead he just nodded, and his father pressed a kiss to his shoulder before leaning him forward to brace on his knees again, “Good boy. Now lift yourself up and show Daddy how much you want his cum. Fuck yourself on Daddy’s cock.” Kurloz’s trembling legs lifted him up partially, and he hissed as the friction agitated his insides, dropping back down with a cry, nails biting into his father’s knees. Again, he pulled himself up and dropped down, beginning a slow rhythm.

“I-it hurts…” He whimpered, but his father only groaned, hands grasping the smaller hips to help him move once he had set the pace,

“Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna make you feel good.” Kurloz couldn’t help the pained noises each time he dropped back down, feeling like each time their hips connected his father’s cock was pushing up into his lungs with how it stole his breath. His entire body shook, and he gasped for air, and it felt like far too soon his legs gave out, slumping over,

“I-I can’t… T-too much… I…” His father shushed him gently, guiding him back to his chest, holding him in place as he stood. Kurloz moaned weakly as he was jostled, only for them to turn and face the couch,

“You did such a good job.” His father sighed, guiding him to kneel on the couch, bracing against the back, “Daddy’s so proud of his little boy.” He pulled back, and Kurloz whimpered at the gaping emptiness left behind, his father pausing before he pulled out completely, “Now Daddy knows how much you want it. Just hold on, and Daddy will take care of the rest.” The movement started out long and slow at first, making Kurloz moan and writhe, clutching the fabric of the couch, but his father sped up quickly, fingers gripping his hips tightly as he rammed into him, dragging cries and screams from Kurloz’s throat.

“T-too fast!” He gasped, collapsing onto his elbows, “H-hurts!!” But it didn’t stop, and Kurloz could only cling helplessly as any hint of the gentleness was shattered in that brutal pace. He sobbed, just trying to keep his hold on the couch like it was his lifeline. Eventually his father slowed down, a little breathless as he pressed deep inside Kurloz, shuddering as he came,

“Mmm, good boy… You love it when Daddy cums inside you…” Kurloz sobbed quietly, too exhausted, and his father rocked his hips gently a few times before pulling out, “Yeah, just look at you. Such a good boy.” He sighed, rubbing his softening cock against Kurloz’s ass idly, “So hungry for Daddy’s cum, it’s a shame we have to stop, isn’t it?” Kurloz whimpered quietly, unable to respond, though his father didn’t seem to be listening, “But there’s always later.” He finally let go of Kurloz, and the younger man collapsed on the couch, unable to support himself. He lay there, trembling and whimpering softly as his father pet his hair, “Sleep. Good boys deserve their rest.” Kurloz curled up as best he could when his legs were so sore and unwilling to move, pulling a pillow over to bury his face in. It wouldn’t take him long to pass out, given how worn out his body was.


	3. A Breaking Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pushed too far, or backed into a corner, instinct kicks in. Fight or flight, one must act to survive. But the chosen action may not have the best outcome...

Kurloz woke to the smell of food, and forced himself to sit up, groaning as his body protested. He ached all over, dark bruises were forming on his hips, and walking felt like an insurmountable task. But god, he was hungry. All his energy spent, and only carbs in the middle of the day meant he needed to eat real food. He rescued his pants from the floor, pulling them on before limping to the kitchen. He flinched when he saw his father at the stove, hesitating by the doorway. Being around him was a bad idea. But he needed to eat, and his father would no doubt come for him anyway. Ducking his head, Kurloz crept into the kitchen, trying not to make noise and alert his father to his presence.

“I know you’re there.” Kurloz flinched, shrinking down when his father turned to look at him, “I could hear you getting dressed.” Kurloz looked away, pressing against the wall, “Dinner’s almost ready, just be patient.” And the older man turned back to the food. Kurloz stayed where he was, wrapping his arms around himself and waiting. Only once the plates landed on the table did he look up, blinking at the empty plate across from his father’s full one.

“But-”

“You have to earn your dinner.” His father said, sitting down at the table and smirking. Kurloz swallowed and looked away again. He figured he could starve for one night. “I know you’re hungry.” Kurloz shifted uncomfortably, then reluctantly stepped toward his father, “Good boy. Get on your knees.” He had to lean on the table for support, but he knelt down anyway. “Very good. Now come here.” Kurloz glanced up, and his stomach twisted when he saw his father spread his legs. His hand was stroking his penis under the table, getting it erect. God, not again. He didn’t want that again. He started to move back, but his father grabbed his hair with his other hand, holding him in place, “Now, now, you’re being so well behaved. Don’t go disobeying me when you’re already on your knees for me.” Kurloz bit his lip with a reluctant whine, but crawled forward, going under the table to settle between his father’s thighs and face the hard flesh. “There’s a good boy.” His father praised, moving his hand above the table, “You can have your dinner after I’ve cum in your mouth.” If he even wanted it at that point. Already his stomach was threatening revolt at the memory. But it was either this or starve, and probably have to do it later.

He took a deep breath, wrapping a hand around the shaft and stroking it, forcing himself to lean forward and close his mouth around the head, a difficult feat on its own. He could hear his father sigh as he began tentatively sucking on him, letting his hand stroke what wouldn’t fit in his mouth. His jaw already protested being stretched wide again, and he didn’t dare let the head anywhere near his throat, in hopes of keeping his appetite to a degree.

“You can take more than that.” His father commented above him, “Come on, then, prove to Daddy you want his cum.” Kurloz bit back a whine, but had no choice. He opened his mouth wider, taking more of the girth until his gag reflex threatened him. He took a slow breath through his nose, and began bobbing his head, earning a quiet groan above, “That’s it… Good boy…” Kurloz did his best to keep a steady pace that matched his hand’s rhythm, trying not to focus on the quiet noises from his father.

He lost track of time, only realizing it was almost over when his father reached under the table to grab his head, tugging him closer. Kurloz gagged, unprepared to have the cock shoved down his throat, and tried to pull back and breathe, gripping his father’s thighs. His father wouldn’t let go, rocking his hips as he groaned,

“Fuck, your mouth is so good… Don’t worry, you’ll get your treat…” Kurloz struggled to pull back as his throat was fucked, tears stinging his eyes, and his stomach heaving. Suddenly his father pulled him back, moving to hold his mouth open as he stroked himself, “That’s a good boy… Take it all…” Kurloz shut his eyes, not wanting to see as hot liquid sprayed into his mouth to the sound of his father’s groan. He peeked up when it stopped, meeting his father’s eyes as he smiled, “Now you look like a real cockslut.” He pushed Kurloz’s mouth closed, holding it there, “Swallow.” Kurloz forced himself to swallow the bitter fluid, dropping his head down when he was let go, “Good boy. Daddy loves you.” His father got up, picking up the empty plate as Kurloz crawled out from under the table to sit down. He still felt nauseous, but he needed to get some kind of real food.

He picked at what he was given, nibbling here and there and trying not to look at his father as he continued eating. His father got up, dumping his plate in the sink before passing Kurloz, petting his hair,

“You will come to my room tonight.” The hand gripped his hair in gentle warning, “That’s not an option.” Kurloz nodded, and waited for him to leave, pushing his plate away. Forget it, he wasn’t hungry anymore. He sat there for a long moment, then got up, dumping the leftovers in the trash and heading to his room. He couldn’t do this. He needed to get away. He grabbed a bag, stuffing as many clothes as he could inside, his phone, his wallet, as well as Gamzee’s pot, then headed for the back door. It opened and shut quietly, and he hurried away from the house as fast as his aching legs would take him, not stopping until he was a few blocks away to catch his breath. He dug out his phone and kept walking, calling a cab to come pick him up. He texted Latula, letting her know he needed to come over and crash for the night. It would be a long drive across town, but it was his best bet. She was a close, trusted friend, and her mother was an imposing lawyer. If anyone could help him, it would be her. The cab picked him up two blocks further along, and he gave the driver the address, sitting back and hugging his bag tightly to his chest.

“You okay, kid?” The driver asked, glancing at him in the rearview. Kurloz shook his head, “Whaddya doin’ out so late?” He didn’t answer. “Where’re your parents?” Kurloz flinched and hid his face. There was a moment’s pause before the driver spoke again, “Alright, I feel ya, kid. You ain’t gotta talk about it. But listen, you want me to take you to the police station instead? Talk to them about it?” Kurloz shook his head vehemently. “Suit yourself.” Silence filled the car again, until Kurloz’s phone buzzed in his hand. He looked at it and his stomach dropped. His father was calling. Kurloz swallowed the lump in his throat, staring at the caller ID and letting it buzz, refusing to answer or hang up. Just let it go to voicemail. He didn’t want to hear his voice. Finally it stopped, and Kurloz put his phone on silent, taking a deep breath before looking out the window at the passing lights. He would be safe with Latula. Her mom would know what to do. He glanced at his phone as the car turned into Latula’s neighborhood, biting his lip when he saw how many times his dad called and left messages. His texts revealed a similar number, but he refused to read them, focusing only on Latula’s response.

_ Sure thing, dude! Mom’s outta town for the night, but emergency crash space is open! _

God dammit, of course she was. Nothing could go his way when he needed it. Still, at least he could stay with her and hope his father didn’t find him. He only knocked twice before Latula tugged the door open, giving him a dazzling grin.

“Kurloz!! How are you, man, it’s been-” She stopped abruptly, taking in his weary, haggard appearance, “Dude, what the hell happened? You look awful.” Kurloz just shook his head, slipping past her and into the house. She shut the door and followed, concern creasing her eyebrows, “That bad, huh? Tell you what, the shower can help you get some tension out, take as long as you need. I got a sleeping bag and some sweet pillows, you can sleep in my room tonight, and talk to Mom tomorrow. Is that okay?” Kurloz nodded, turning toward the bathroom without a word. Latula followed him to the door, tugging his sleeve gently to stop him before he disappeared, “Want me to call Tuna? You know he’d drop everything for you.” Some of the tension left his shoulders, and he gave a weak smile, nodding. Latula smiled back at him, letting him shut the bathroom door as she went to make the call. Kurloz took a deep breath, locking the door before shedding his clothes and starting the water. He turned it to as hot as he could stand, refusing to look at himself in the mirror before stepping under the burning spray. He sighed, letting the heat soak into his skin, easing the tension and distracting him from the aches. He imagined it was burning away his flesh and muscle, scalding his very bones, and he craved it. Anything to rid him of the memories.

He stayed there until he couldn’t tell if he actually had skin any more, dunking his head under the spray to soak his hair, deflating its wild curls. His scalp was sensitive from having his hair pulled, but that didn’t matter. He stole some of Latula’s shampoo, scrubbing it into his hair and rinsing it away. Her body wash was a soothing, fruity smell, and he took full advantage of it, hissing a little when he washed sore areas. But he needed to be completely clean before he allowed himself to leave the comfort of the shower and pull a towel around him. He kept his back to the mirror, pulling out a clean sweater and pants, getting dressed and scraping his wet hair out of his face before meeting his reflection. He still looked tired, but at least he was clean. The towel was draped around his shoulders, and he picked up his bag, taking a deep breath of the humid, post-shower air before unlocking the door and stepping out. He could hear Mituna’s voice down the hall, and followed it to Latula’s room, the last of the tension leaving him upon seeing his best friend and his unruly mop of hair.

“KURLOZ!!” Mituna shouted, tumbling into the tall one with an enthusiastic hug, grinning wide, “Tulip said you weren’t okay, but I’m here now, so be okay!!” Kurloz couldn’t help but smile, hugging Mituna and nuzzling into his messy hair,

“I am now that you’re here, best bro.” He replied, and Mituna made a happy noise, pulling him over to the bed,

“You took a shower!! Can I brush your hair, canicanicani?” Kurloz nodded, sitting on the bed while Mituna cheered, snatching up a brush from Latula’s bedside table and flopping gracelessly on the bed, scrambling around in his adorable, uncoordinated way behind Kurloz to start carefully brushing the wet curls. Latula sat next to them, and they shared idle conversation about Mituna’s progress with skateboarding, Latula’s attempt at parkour, anything they found interesting to share while Kurloz listened and commented. He didn’t bring up his own stories, and he knew they would not press him for them. Before this, his father had always treated him and Gamzee poorly, and seeing his friends was the only way to escape the insults and shouting. Latula’s mother had offered to press charges when Kurloz arrived with a black eye and bruises around his neck, but he’d refused. If she offered now, he felt more inclined to agree.

“Yo, earth to Loz.” Kurloz blinked, focusing on Latula’s hand waving in his face, “Dude, where’d you go? You got a scary look on your face.”

“Nooooo!!” Kurloz grunted as Mituna flopped onto him, clinging to him from behind, “Don’t do the scary face, Loz! I brought my sthketh… skethth…  _ sketchbook _ , do you wanna draw?” The tall one leaned back slightly, countering the short, gangly frame of his friend. Drawing. He vented through his paints and pencils when he got extremely upset, and this felt like a good time as any. He nodded, and Mituna scrambled for his bag, Kurloz grabbing his shirt before he tumbled off the bed, pulling him back. Mituna giggled, digging out the large sketchbook and a set of pencils, flipping past old drawings and new to a blank page, handing it over.

“Thanks, Bee.” Kurloz leaned over, kissing his forehead where it was hidden under his long, messy bangs. Mituna made an incoherent, happy noise and flopped out on the bed, snuggling up to his girlfriend while Kurloz picked a good pencil and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Focus on the hurt, the rage, the weakness. Envision it in all its twisting, screaming forms. His eyes opened and the image was there, in his mind. He began sketching the twisting shapes, getting his rough outline to fill the page before he set to details, starting in one corner and working outward. Agonized, screaming clown faces took form among jagged lines, splattered fluid, and twisting, alien shapes. Dad had long ago taught them of the Dark Carnival, the Messiahs. When he saw Kurloz’s venting art he’d muttered something about being able to see the Carnival. Whatever hellish landscape he saw in his mind when he drew, it gave him an outlet to pour his feelings into, putting all his pent up anger for his father into a mutilated grin of a clown, his disgust at himself into a twisting, unfamiliar shape looming in the background, and every ounce of pain in his body became jagged lines that shattered the flat expanse like a broken mirror.

He switched to a softer pencil to go back over everything, casting deep, imposing shadows from an unseen light source and adding incomprehensible depth to the writhing mass of shapes trying to engulf the clowns on the broken terrain. He smudged a few areas with his thumb, blurring the lines between shadows, and then set the pencil down, surveying the tortured scene he’d created. It felt satisfying to see his pain manifest.

“That bad, huh?” Kurloz looked up, and met Mituna’s mismatched eyes. They were focused so intently on him, his hair brushed aside to make them visible for once. Mituna smiled sympathetically, leaning closer to take Kurloz’s hand and squeeze it, “We’re here.” Kurloz smiled a little, squeezing the hand in return. It was so rare for Mituna to be this lucid, but Kurloz appreciated it in the moment, leaning in as Mituna pressed against his side, cuddling him, “It’s gonna be okay, Loz. Promise.” He hummed in agreement, setting their heads together and enjoying a moment of quiet, closing the sketchbook to put the negative feelings aside for positive ones.

When he did check his phone again, he found messages from his brother. Curious, he opened them and read through them, his heart sinking a little.

_ Heeeey, Kurbro! _

_ Dad says you ran off, and won’t answer his calls. _

_ He sounded real mad, is everything okay? _

_ Let me know you’re okay. :o( _

Kurloz sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in agitation. Of course he would use Gamzee to get to him. He did this every time Kurloz left without notice. Taking a deep breath, he clicked on his father’s name, biting his lip as he faced numerous messages demanding he answer, to know where he was, to come back home. The last message made his blood run cold.

_ Come home tonight and I won’t break your legs. _

He set his phone down, curling up tightly against Mituna, who hugged him wordlessly. He could feel how Kurloz was trembling, knew his best friend needed the support and comfort. Kurloz took a few deep breaths, then wrapped his arms around Mituna as Latula settled on his otherside, surrounding him in hugs.

“We’re here, Loz. It’s gonna be okay.” She murmured into his shoulder, but Kurloz shook his head,

“It’s not. It never is. Not with him.” His voice trembled, and he took another deep breath, “If I go home now the punishment won’t be as bad…” Latula picked her head up, her hands gripping his shirt slightly,

“Are you crazy? He’s nearly put you in the hospital on multiple occasions! You’re not going home until you’ve talked to Mom!” Kurloz dropped his head onto his knees, sighing,

“She can’t do anything right now. She’s out of town.” He muttered, curling up tighter, “I should just go…”

“NO!!” Mituna shouted, making Kurloz jolt as he clung to the taller one’s shoulders, “You can’t go! You can’t! I don’t wanna lose you, Kurloz, if you leave, then- then- augh!” Mituna clutched his head, squirming, and Kurloz came out of his ball to pull Mituna into his lap, holding him to his chest, ignoring his own problems in favor of helping his friend,

“Shhhhh, easy, Tuna, easy… Deep breath.” Mituna whined, squirming and kicking his feet a little. Kurloz ran a hand through Mituna’s hair, then down his back in a slow, soothing motion, taking a deep breath as he trailed his fingers up his friend’s spine, letting it out as he pressed his palm gently to his back and slid it down.

“Noooo…” Mituna whined, tugging on his hair a little, but Kurloz repeated the motion, taking a deep breath, and letting it out, and this time Mituna sighed with him, copying the deep breath when Kurloz did it again, and deflating on the exhale, his squirming dying down as his hands let go of his hair.

“That’s it…” Kurloz murmured softly, “One more time.” Mituna took a deep breath with him, letting it out and leaning into Kurloz’s chest, nuzzling him gently,

“Can’t go.” Mituna insisted, hugging Kurloz, “Momma’s got pictures of stuff he’s done before. She got proof he hurt you.” Kurloz combed his fingers through Mituna’s hair, gently rubbing his scalp. That was true. She had insisted on getting photos of his bruises, in case Kurloz ever decided to press charges for abuse. But would those be enough? What happened recently… It was a whole new level, and Kurloz wasn’t sure child abuse charges would be enough, now that he was over eighteen. He wasn’t a child now, he wasn’t technically a dependent any more.

“I’ll call Mom now.” Latula stated, pulling out her phone, “Let her know it’s serious.” Kurloz nodded reluctantly, focusing on Mituna while Latula stepped out of the room to talk with her mother. Mituna reached up, playing with Kurloz’s hair in return, giving him a crooked grin,

“It’s gonna be okay.” He insisted, and Kurloz nodded. Latula returned moments later, offering the phone and a supportive thumbs up. He sighed and took it,

“Hey, Mrs. Pyrope.” He flinched when she spoke, her voice harsh and demanding,

“Are you okay?” It was usually her first question when he visited, and he wrapped his arm around Mituna,

“I’m better than I was a couple hours ago. Tula and Tuna are taking care of me.” She hummed, pausing for a moment,

“What’d he do now?” Here, Kurloz froze up, unsure of what to say. He looked at Mituna and Latula, biting his lip. He didn’t want them to know. He’d originally hoped to speak with the lawyer privately, but now… “Kurloz?” He jolted a little, clearing his throat,

“I… I don’t want to talk about it… N-not over the phone…” She hummed again, a tone of displeasure mixed with the sound of acknowledgement,

“Bastard’s got a lot of nerve to keep this shit up.” She muttered, and Kurloz could hear her typing as she spoke, “Alright, you know what I’m gonna ask. Do you want to press charges? Not just for the past abuse, but this as well. I can talk with you about it tomorrow to get the right ones on him.” Kurloz bit his lip, hesitating,

“I…” A loud bang on the door made Kurloz jolt and Mituna yelp. Kurloz felt his breathing pick up a little, “Oh god he’s here.” He whispered, hands starting to shake,

“Kurloz, don’t you dare hang up the phone. Stay on the line with me.” Kurloz flinched at the woman’s voice, whimpering a little as Latula squared her shoulders and headed for the door. Kurloz couldn’t stop gasping for air, panic rising in his chest. “He won’t come into my house.” The conviction in her voice grounded him a bit, but he couldn’t stop hyperventilating, “Do you want to press charges?”

“I-I…” Kurloz gulped, hearing his father’s deep rumbling voice, even though he couldn’t make out the words, “I…” Mituna squeezed him tightly, and he struggled to form the words. The loud, booming sound of his father stole all of his thoughts in an instant,

“KURLOZ!” The lean one flinched, knowing he had to answer or face even worse wrath for ignoring him. The phone slipped from his shaking hand, and he got up, ignoring the frantic protests from Mituna, who tried to pull him back. Kurloz picked up his bag and phone, heading for the door, staring at the floor rather than meet the furious glare of the large man. Latula tried to push him back,

“Dude, no!! Go talk to Mom!!” She insisted, but a growl from his father made him flinch and step around his friend, allowing his father to grab his arm in a crushing grip and drag him to the car. He couldn’t register what his friends were shouting as he was shoved in the backseat, just pulled himself upright to buckle his seatbelt for the long ride home. His father slammed the door shut, going around to the driver’s side and getting in, slamming that door too and driving away.

“I told you before.” He growled, “You belong to me, and you’ll do as I say, or I’ll  _ make _ you.” Kurloz nodded, staring at his hands even as tears blurred his vision,

“Sorry.” He murmured, but his father scoffed,

“Not yet you aren’t. When I’m done with you, you will be.” The rest of the drive was filled with tense silence, and his father yanked him out of the car once they were in the garage, pulling him through the house and to his room.

Kurloz could see the cuffs waiting for him, and he shrank down, too scared to fight as his father tugged his clothes off of him and shoved him face first onto the bed. The cuffs closed tightly around his wrists, and Kurloz yelped as his hair was yanked, forcing his head up so his father could set something around it, clasping it in place. A collar. Kurloz whimpered, forced onto his knees, and the memory of being in this position before made him sob, hiding his face. His father wasted no time, coating his fingers with lube and pressing one to Kurloz’s entrance.

“Who do you belong to?” He demanded, and Kurloz sobbed again,

“Y-you.” His father grunted, pushing the finger in roughly, making Kurloz cry out in pain,

“That’s right. You belong to me. You are my property, and I expect my property to  _ behave _ .” The finger thrust sharply into him to punctuate the word, and Kurloz yelped, gripping the sheets tightly,

“I-I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I swear!” The finger pulled out and two pressed against him,

“Who do you belong to?” Kurloz sobbed, trembling uncontrollably,

“Y-you!” He gasped, crying out as the fingers shoved into him and thrust mercilessly,

“You’re mine.” His father growled, “And you’ll always be mine.” The fingers pulled back again, “Who do you belong to?” Kurloz whimpered, weakly tugging on the cuffs,

“I’m yours, I’m yours, I’ll never run again, I swear, I’m so sorry-AUGH!!” He spasmed when three fingers shoved into him brutally, his legs nearly giving out if it weren't for his father holding him up,

“You’re Daddy’s little boy. You give Daddy what he wants. You take Daddy’s cock any way he gives it, and you obey when Daddy tells you something.” Kurloz clawed at the bed, struggling to form words,

“Y-yes! A-anything you want! I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry!!” He cried out when the fingers pressed all the way into him, gasping for air when they pulled out, shaking and trying not to collapse. His breath hitched when a familiar weight settled against him, biting his lip,

“Who do you belong to?” Kurloz chanced a look back, meeting his father’s burning glare, tears blurring his vision as he tried to blink them away,

“I-I’m Daddy’s cockslut.” He whimpered, “I do w-what Daddy tells me, I take what Daddy gives me.” He took a shuddering breath, “I belong to Daddy.” His father groaned quietly, gripping his hip,

“There’s a good boy.” He sighed, “Now Daddy wants his apology.” Kurloz tried to brace for what was coming, but he still screamed when the massive girth buried inside him too fast to adjust to, pulled back, and began a ruthless pace.

“I-I’m sorry!!” He cried, struggling to speak around the pain, “I’ll never do it again, I-I’ll be good!!” His father growled, pulling his hips back into each thrust, and Kurloz buried his face in a pillow, his voice starting to go raw from screaming. A hand grabbed his throat, squeezing it, and Kurloz gasped for air as his neck was constricted. He might be strangled to death, only knowing pain and fear in his last moments. He couldn’t stay coherent, lost in the pain, until he heard his father groan against his back, starting to come out of the haze to feel everything aching, coughing when the hand released his throat.

“Apology accepted.” His father murmured, pulling out and letting Kurloz collapse. The lean one whimpered, struggling to keep his eyes open as he was rolled onto his back. His father caressed his cheek, and the collar around his neck before leaning in and pressing their lips together. Kurloz could barely respond, but the kiss didn’t last long before his father pulled back, eyes much softer, the anger gone, “Daddy loves you.” Kurloz nodded slightly, his eyes sliding shut as exhaustion claimed him.


	4. Falling Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Kurloz has been shown the worst and cracked under the pressure, Grant has him right where he wants him. All he has to do is influence Kurloz's perception just so...

He didn’t want to move. A raw ache filled his body, and moving could make it worse. He stared at the wall, his hands still trapped above his head, his father’s arm draped around him as the man snored behind him. If he moved, he might wake the man up. But he needed to move eventually. He needed a shower, to use the bathroom, to eat. To tell his friends he was okay. He felt horrible for leaving them like that, but couldn’t bring himself to defy his father when he came looking for him personally. Kurloz tensed slightly when his father shifted, pulling him closer to his chest and sighing into his hair.

“Mm… Sleep well?” Kurloz turned his head a little, meeting his father’s sleepy gaze. He nodded slightly, then looked at the wall again, unsure what to say, “Good.” He shifted closer, pressing a kiss to Kurloz’s shoulder, “Daddy’s gonna give you a bath. Gotta get his boy all nice and clean.” The cuffs were undone, and Kurloz pulled his arms to his chest, rubbing his wrists. He gasped when he was suddenly picked up, agitating his aching muscles, but his father ignored his sounds of protest, carrying him to the lavish bathroom. Kurloz whimpered when a hand groped his sore ass, hiding his face in his father’s shoulder.

The bath filled with steaming water, his father tossing in some things that made the whole room smell like a spa. It made Kurloz relax just smelling it. His father stepped into the tub, sitting down with a sigh, which also brought Kurloz into the hot water. He shivered as the heat enveloped him, getting set in his father’s lap while they both basked in the relaxing bath. After a while, his father got some soap onto his hands and began rubbing it over Kurloz’s skin, earning a contented hum from the shorter man, closing his eyes and breathing the fragrance of the soap. The cleaning became more of a massage when the large hands went under the water, working knots out of muscles in his lower back. They worked back up, and Kurloz thought he’d melt away as all the tension was worked out of him, and then the soap was rinsed away.

“Does that feel good?” The voice rumbled from the chest under his head. It took a moment of effort, but he nodded, and his father chuckled softly, lifting his chin and kissing him. This time Kurloz returned the soft affection, both of them lingering in each kiss as they melted together. His father broke away first, and Kurloz looked up, meeting his eyes, how they looked back at him almost lovingly, “Daddy loves you.” His father murmured, kissing him again, “Daddy’s good little boy.” Was this the same man from last night? Had he been so brutally abused by the man holding him so gently and kissing him so sweetly? Maybe he was still dreaming. His father pushed him back slightly, and Kurloz sat up, “Help Daddy get clean now.” He nodded, getting some of the soap on his hands and gliding his hands over his father’s chest. His father leaned back against the tub, closing his eyes and sighing.

Kurloz made sure to cover as much as he could, even getting each muscular arm, which earned him a pleased hum. He rinsed the soap off carefully, gasping when an arm wrapped around him and his father suddenly leaned in, capturing his mouth in a deep kiss. When he broke away, he just smirked, pulling out the stopper to let the water drain out, picking up Kurloz with one arm and standing. He grabbed a couple towels before setting Kurloz on his feet, handing him a towel to dry off. His father didn’t bother to get dressed, wrapping the towel around his waist and leaving the steamy bathroom, so Kurloz covered himself with his own and followed, unsure what else to do. They went to the kitchen, his father digging out some quick frozen meals and heating them up in the microwave, pulling Kurloz into his arms while he waited. Kurloz opened his mouth, feeling like he should question this behavior, but unsure how best to ask about it without potentially ruining the moment and making his father angry again. Kurloz took the microwaved food offered to him, sitting at the table to eat it quietly while his father made coffee, eating by the counter.

“Daddy’s got plans for you today.” His father finally spoke up, and Kurloz glanced away as coffee was poured into a mug, “Finish your breakfast, then go wait on the bed.” Kurloz hesitated, then continued eating, if a bit more reluctantly, throwing away the container and heading to his father’s room again. He sat on the foot of the bed, staring at the floor, nervous what would happen to him. Nothing his father had done had been really gentle so far. He glanced over to where his clothes had been abandoned on the floor last night, his bag left nearby. He dug through it, pulling out his phone and checking his messages. Of course, his friends were worried. His gut twisted when he saw one from Latula’s mother.

_ I’m pressing charges. _

It was going to happen, then, whether he agreed or not. He sent a brief text to Latula and Mituna to let them know he was okay, hesitating over Mrs. Pyrope’s name. What should he say to her? What could he say? He jumped when the door open, nearly dropping the phone as he looked up at his father, quickly closing his messages. The older man just smiled, seeing him waiting on the bed as he was told.

“Good boy, Daddy’s so proud of you.” Kurloz smiled weakly, flinching when his phone was taken out of his hands, “You won’t need that today.” It was set on the bedside table, and his father settled on the bed, gesturing for Kurloz to come closer. Kurloz obeyed, crawling closer and getting pulled into his father’s lap. His father slid his hands down his sides, admiring him for a long moment, “My beautiful boy.” He murmured, a hand wandering up his chest to hook under the collar and pull him closer, “All mine. No one else can have you.” Kurloz looked away, nodding slightly, “That’s my good boy. You want to make Daddy happy, don’t you?” He nodded again, trying to ignore the hand cupping his ass, “Good boys make Daddy happy.” His father leaned down, letting go of the collar to hold Kurloz’s chin, turning his head to meet his eyes, “Daddy wants to taste that sweet mouth.” Kurloz hesitated, then leaned up to press their lips together in a soft kiss. His father hummed in approval, his hand cupping Kurloz’s head to hold him there. The kisses were slow at first, but then became more demanding, and Kurloz gasped as a tongue pushed into his mouth, squirming around insistently. He did his best to follow, quickly getting overwhelmed by the hungry kiss and having to pull back, a little breathless as he looked away,

“S-sorry…” He mumbled, but his father only chuckled, pulling him closer again,

“My little boy’s got such soft lips. Daddy wants another taste.” Kurloz bit back a whine, tilting his head up and getting tugged into another hungry kiss. Without thinking, he tangled his hands in his father’s hair, leaning into him as their tongues moved together. He gasped when something rubbed against his thigh, pulling back for air, only to look away again as his father chuckled, “You’re such a good boy. Look, you got Daddy all hard just from those kisses.” He was leaned back, and sure enough, he could see the flesh beneath him where the towels had parted. His father tugged off the towel covering Kurloz, exposing him completely before bringing the large erection up into full view, “You want Daddy’s cock, don’t you?” He wanted to say no. He wanted to refuse and go hide in his room, but he knew the consequences all too well by now.

“Y-yes…” He said softly, looking up at his father’s smirking face, “I want to make Daddy happy.” The smirk spread into a grin, and his father leaned back comfortably,

“Such a good boy. Stroke Daddy’s cock.” Kurloz swallowed hard, wrapping his hand around the hot flesh and stroking its length. He shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t have given in to his father’s demands. Everything had gone so, so wrong. “That’s it.” His father encouraged, squeezing his hip, “Daddy’s good boy.” Kurloz sped up a little, and his father groaned, tilting his head back, “Mmm, such an eager boy… You want Daddy to cum on you, huh?” Kurloz didn’t answer, and his father chuckled, “Such a hungry slut.” Kurloz bit his lip, but focused on his hand rather than the praise, trying not to look at his father. He gasped when he was abruptly pushed down onto the bed, getting rolled onto his stomach,

“On your knees, Daddy’s got a better idea.” Kurloz whimpered, but lifted his ass into the air, squeezing his eyes shut. Here it comes. The pain, yet again. Instead of hearing the pop of the lube bottle opening, his father pushed his cock between Kurloz’s buttcheeks, rocking his hips slowly, “Much better… Daddy’s gonna cum all over your back.” Still not ideal, but at least it spared him some pain. Kurloz just sighed quietly and let his father do as he pleased, trying to hold still for him. His father groaned, squeezing his ass and moving faster, “Fuck, your ass is perfect for this…” Kurloz highly doubted that, but bit back the retort,

“Anything for Daddy.” He murmured instead, and his father hummed in agreement,

“That’s my good boy. So willing to please.” One hand let go, only to smack Kurloz’s ass, making him yelp and jolt, “Filthy little slut. Long as you get Daddy’s cock, you don’t care what happens to you.” Kurloz bit his lip, resting his forehead on his arms, braced on his elbows. He cared greatly what happened, but he was too scared to defy his father after last night. He waited there as his father pleasured himself, occasionally slapping Kurloz’s ass to make him yelp, squeezing the cheeks together around his shaft as he rutted against the younger man. Kurloz began to worry that he’d get friction burns soon, only for his father to groan loudly, going still. Kurloz cringed as the fluid landed on his skin, fighting the urge to pull away.

“Damn you look nice like that…” His father mused, pulling away to sit beside him, “You did such a good job, Daddy’s so proud of you.” Kurloz sat up slowly, offering a weak smile to the man who pulled him closer, smearing the sticky fluid on his back.  _ Ugh. _ Kurloz shuddered in disgust, but his grimace went unnoticed as his father pulled him into a long, slow kiss. They stayed there for a few minutes, one kiss becoming several, until his father finally pulled back, smiling and stroking Kurloz’s cheek, “Daddy loves you.” Kurloz nodded, lowering his gaze a little, staring at a pillow behind his father until his chin was lifted, meeting his eyes again, “You’re supposed to say “I love you too, Daddy”. Say it.” Kurloz squirmed uncomfortably, but cleared his throat a little,

“I-I love you too, Daddy.” His father grinned, running his hand through Kurloz’s hair before kissing him again,

“Good boy.” He got out of bed, stretching and heading for his closet, “Get dressed and go sit on the couch.” Kurloz got up, pulling some clothes out of his bag to put on, grabbing his phone and heading to the living room. He had a flurry of messages from Mituna, the worry making him feel bad for not being able to talk to them sooner, but he just insisted he was okay.

_ Send pic so i know ur ok. :( _

Kurloz sighed, opening the camera feature, only to wince when he saw the collar around his neck. He couldn’t let Mituna see that, so he brought the phone closer to get it out of frame, taking a picture of his face and sending it. He closed his phone, hearing his father coming down the hall, and tucked it in his pocket, looking up at the large man, who smiled and leaned over him, pressing a kiss to his hair,

“Good boy. Let’s watch a movie, shall we?” Kurloz nodded, watching his father pick out one of Kurloz’s favorites, settling beside him to wrap an arm around his waist while the movie started.

Around halfway through the movie, there was a sharp knock on the door, and his father sighed in annoyance, pausing the movie and getting up to answer the door.

“Oh. You. What do you want?” He growled, and Kurloz tensed at the voice that replied.

“Hello, Grant.” Latula’s mom had a tone with blatantly faked pleasantness, “I’d like to speak with Kurloz.” There was a long silence, and Kurloz kept his eyes locked on the frozen image of the movie, not daring to look over at the door.

“He’s busy.” His father said coldly, and Kurloz heard Mrs. Pyrope laugh slightly,

“Grant.” She said slowly, “Don’t lie to me. Let me speak with Kurloz, or this visit won’t be a friendly one.” Another silence stretched between them, broken by his father huffing,

“Kurloz. Come here.” Kurloz flinched, but got up obediently, keeping his head down as he went to his father’s side. He glanced up at the woman, dressed in the most casual jeans and t-shirt, and she smiled back gently,

“Hey, Kurloz. Are you okay?” Her voice was gentle now, and Kurloz craved it, wanted to tell her no, he wasn’t okay, he was forced to do as his father said or risk further abuse, but a brief glance at his father’s frown and dark eyes kept his mouth shut. Instead he just nodded a little. “You gave Latula and Mituna quite the scare last night. Come on, we can tell them you’re okay.” She offered her hand, but his father growled quietly,

“Kurloz is grounded at the moment.” He said sharply, but Mrs. Pyrope just smiled at him,

“We’re just going to sit in my car and call them. Not even leaving the driveway.” Kurloz took her hand, flinching down at the low growl from his father, but letting her lead him to the car, sitting in the passenger’s seat while she got in the driver’s side,

“I sent them texts to know I’m okay.” Kurloz said softly, but the woman just shook her head, pulling out her phone,

“You looked at Grant before answering my question. That tells me that you didn’t answer honestly. You’re wearing a collar, and you have bruises on your neck. He’s forcing you to do something you don’t want to and abusing you when you don’t do it.” Kurloz flinched down, but let the woman lift up his hair and take a picture of his neck, “What did he do to you?” Kurloz hesitated, then took a deep breath as she set the phone on the dashboard,

“He… I-it started last week… He came into my room one night and…” He wrapped his arms around himself, fighting back the tears, “He f-forced himself on me. I-I couldn’t fight him off…” She set her arm around him, her voice soft,

“Oh, Kurloz… I’m so sorry…” Kurloz leaned into her, rubbing some tears from his eyes,

“Y-yesterday was worse… He kept forcing me into things… Saying I belonged to him… I-I couldn’t take it anymore. Once I had the chance, I grabbed some stuff and ran. I called a cab to go to your house.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm his shaking, “B-but he came after me. I-I knew he’d hurt me either way, but if I went with him then, m-maybe it wouldn’t be as bad.” He covered his face with his hands, sobbing, “It hurt so much… Everything hurt, and I just wanted it to stop, but he just kept  _ going _ and-”

“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, Kurloz. I’m here.” She said gently, rubbing his back, “It’s not your fault. I want you to remember that. None of this is your fault.” Kurloz sniffled, rubbing his eyes,

“I-I have to do what he says… I don’t want to be hurt again…” He swallowed a lump in his throat, and Latula’s mom hugged him tightly, brushing some hair from his face as she picked up her phone again,

“I can’t do anything right now, but this is going to help me greatly when it comes to bringing him to justice.” She gave him a soft smile, “Just hang in there, Kurloz. We’ll get you and your brother away from him as soon as we can.” Kurloz nodded slightly, giving her a weak smile, “Are there any more bruises you can show me?” He nodded, shifting in his seat to show the handprints on his hip, letting her get a picture of that, and the bruise on his arm before she let him get out of the car, walking him back to the door. His father opened it immediately, glowering at them, and Kurloz flinched back a little. Mrs. Pyrope squeezed his shoulder encouragingly, then stepped back, letting him go back inside while his father shut the door and locked it firmly.

“What did she tell you?” He demanded, and Kurloz shrank down,

“We talked to my friends, and I told them I was okay. Mituna was worried about me.” He didn’t dare tell him the truth, not when his only means of escape was driving away. His father huffed, but accepted the answer, picking him up.

“Come on, then. Let’s finish the movie.” They settled on the couch with Kurloz in his lap, and the movie was unpaused. They finished it without further interruption, and his father nudged him once the credits started, “Go make us lunch.” Kurloz got up, heading to the kitchen to look around in the fridge. Selecting a few ingredients, he got out a pan and started cooking. His father came in once he was putting the food on plates, wrapping his arms around Kurloz and nuzzling his hair.

“It’s ready.” Kurloz said, offering a plate, and his father hummed, taking it and kissing Kurloz’s neck,

“Smells good. Let’s eat.” They ate in silence, Kurloz avoiding looking at his father as much as he could. He couldn’t stop thinking about what happened in the car. He was getting help. Pyrope was going to get him and Gamzee away from their father. He just wished he could celebrate that, instead of fearing what his father would make him do next. “Kurloz.” He jolted, sitting up straighter and looking at his father, “Did you hear me?” Shit, shit, shit, he had been so lost in thought, he missed something.

“S-sorry… I was distracted…” He prayed this wouldn’t result in punishment, but his father just chuckled,

“Thinking about Daddy’s cock again, weren’t you?” Kurloz bit back a sigh of relief, just nodding. It was a good enough excuse to avoid the real one, “Heh. Can’t wait for more, can you, slut?” He shook his head. “Go wait on the bed.” Kurloz got up, walking quickly out of the kitchen to return to his father’s room, sitting in the middle of the bed and chewing on his lip. What would he do this time? How badly would it hurt? His father came in moments later, smirking at him, “Who do you belong to?” Kurloz glanced away,

“I belong to Daddy.” He murmured softly as the large man climbed onto the bed and pushed him onto his back,

“And what are you?” Kurloz hesitated, his breath hitching as a hand slid under his sweater,

“I-I’m Daddy’s little cockslut.” His father nodded, leaning down and kissing him, pushing his shirt up to caress his chest, and then tugging the shirt off him.

“Good boy.” He murmured as he sat back, hands wandering down to Kurloz’s pants, “You’re gonna prepare yourself while Daddy watches.” Kurloz winced inwardly, but didn’t voice his protests. His father tugged off his pants and underwear, hands roaming the leaner thighs and spreading them. Kurloz turned his head to avoid seeing the hungry look in those dark eyes. Thankfully it didn’t last long, and Kurloz was handed the bottle of lube. Biting his lip, he popped the cap open, pouring the slick fluid onto his fingers liberally, coating them. He refused to look up at his father as he took a deep breath, reaching down to gingerly press one finger to his entrance. It still hurt from all the abuse yesterday, so he took his time pushing the digit inside, squeezing his eyes shut and trying not to tense up too much.

The first finger he could manage with only a slight grimace, thrusting slowly to help relax the muscles. It was a strange sensation, now that he could focus on it and not just pain. Still, if given the choice, he wasn’t sure he’d have done this so soon after last night. He tested the give for a second finger, and began to widen himself out with a quiet hiss of pain. His body didn’t appreciate it at all, but the hands holding his thighs apart told him it wouldn’t be a good idea to stop. He took his time stretching himself, trying to bite back some of the pained noises wanting to escape. He hesitated when he pulled his fingers back to try a third, biting his lip as they hovered over the sore area.

“Go on, then.” His father muttered after a moment and Kurloz flinched, taking a deep breath and starting to press the fingers in. He grimaced, whimpering quietly as the dull ache became a throb of pain. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to do much more after this. Progress was even slower now, but he pressed on, if only to keep his father from changing his mind and doing it himself. He didn’t want that again. Kurloz had to take a moment just to breathe once his fingers were all the way in, then began rocking them slowly, gritting his teeth to hold back pained whimpers.

“Good boy.” His father murmured once he had a rhythm going, “You put on such a good show for Daddy.” Kurloz’s breath hitched when his father shifted closer, his hand nearly brushing his father’s groin each time he pulled it back, “You can’t wait to have Daddy’s cock again, can you?” Kurloz whined quietly, internally begging for the nightmare to end. He didn’t want to do this anymore. But his father seemed to interpret the whine differently, chuckling and petting Kurloz’s thigh, “Don’t worry, you’ll get it soon. Daddy can’t wait to be buried in that tight ass again.” Kurloz turned his head, pressing his face into the pillow as best he could while on his back. Frustrated tears stung his eyes, and again he was filled with disgust for himself. He pulled his fingers out too fast, wincing a little,

“I can’t…” Kurloz whimpered softly, and his father chuckled,

“Can’t wait any longer? Such an eager whore.” Kurloz was lifted to his father’s chest, the larger man shifting around to lean back against the headboard, setting Kurloz in his lap and undoing his pants. Kurloz lifted himself up when his father pushed his pants down, giving him room to get them past the leaner one, “Now be a good boy and get Daddy ready.” Kurloz bit back a sigh of frustration, but got a little more lube on his already slippery hand, stroking the large penis before him. His father hummed in approval, rocking his hips slightly, “Good boy… You handle Daddy’s cock so well…” Once the entire length was slick, Kurloz pulled his hand away, gasping slightly when he was pulled into a bruising kiss, a little breathless when his father released him again, smirking hungrily, “Now ride Daddy’s cock like a good little slut.” Kurloz tried not to cringe outwardly, rising up on his knees and positioning himself over the massive erection. He really didn’t want to do this. But he had no choice, did he? He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves, and sank down. His body resisted at first, and he hissed as the head pressed inside him, bringing back the too familiar sting of being stretched way too much all at once. Hands settled on his hips, and Kurloz had no choice but to keep lowering himself down, little whimpers of pain escaping his lips as he went.

“H-hurts…” He protested, but his father just squeezed his hips,

“To remind you who you belong to.” He replied simply, and Kurloz shuddered when he was fully seated, trying to catch his breath. “You’re Daddy’s property, and that means only Daddy can fill you up like this.” His father slid his large hands up Kurloz’s sides, one lifting his chin to meet his eyes, “Only Daddy can fuck your ass. Only Daddy can fuck your mouth. No one else can have you.” Kurloz shrank down slightly, nodding wordlessly, and his father tugged him forward into a slow, burning kiss. His other hand squeezed Kurloz’s hip, and Kurloz bit back a whimper as he took the hint and began moving up and down slowly. His father groaned softly into the kiss, both hands holding the narrow hips to help him move. Kurloz placed his hands on his father’s chest to help balance himself, breaking the kiss to straighten up, panting softly.

He found himself moving faster of his own volition, the realization dawning on him when his father groaned louder, leaning his head back against the headboard. Kurloz also became aware that his noises weren’t as pained now, and while it did still hurt, he didn’t mind it as much. His body was reacting positively to this, and knowing that made Kurloz fear that he’d finally lost his mind. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to have sex with his father. Yet here he was, somehow finding pleasure in it. He shifted slightly, trying to keep his knees from slipping away, only to suddenly cry out, his back arching with the unexpected surge of pleasure. His father gripped his hips tighter, groaning in response,

“That’s it.” He urged, keeping Kurloz’s hips moving, drawing more noises from him, “That’s my good boy, moan like the whore you are.” Kurloz dug his nails into his father’s chest, legs starting to tremble as he tilted his hips. He didn’t fully understand what changed this time, but his body wouldn’t let him think, only focused on getting more pleasure.

“F-fuck!” Kurloz gasped, crying out again when he dropped down just right, trying to hold himself in that position as he pulled up again, and dropped back down, tossing his head back with a moan. His father shuddered beneath him, pulling his hips down eagerly, and he cried out again, inner muscles squeezing involuntarily.

“God, you look so good bouncing on Daddy’s cock…” His father’s voice had gone husky, and a brief glance gave him a glimpse of the hungry look on his father’s face, “Does it feel good? Do you like how Daddy feels inside you?” Kurloz struggled to find the right response, his thoughts too muddled by the need for more. Another sharp tug brought his hips down hard, and he arched, scraping his nails on his father’s skin a little,

“Y-yes!!” He cried breathlessly, and his father groaned, squeezing his hips tighter,

“Do you want Daddy to make you feel even better?” He growled, leaning up somewhat, “Give you even more?” Kurloz keened, his hands moving to cling tightly to his father’s shoulders,

“Yes! Yes, please!!” What was he even saying any more? Why was he agreeing to this? Suddenly, he was pulled down and held there, and he couldn’t help the pathetic whine that slipped out when the pleasure stopped, his father tugging his chin up to lock eyes,

“Beg for it.” He ordered, “Beg Daddy to fuck you good and hard. Tell Daddy how bad you want his cock, to make you scream for more.” Kurloz whimpered, squirming and rolling his hips to grind down onto his father, barely hearing the larger man’s breath catch before his hip was squeezed tighter, “Say it, or I won’t let you move.” Kurloz wanted to move so bad. He pressed to his father’s chest, whimpering in his ear,

“F-fuck me, Daddy. I’m your hungry little slut, I need your cock.” He shuddered when his father shifted beneath him, moaning softly, “Daddy makes me feel so good, I want Daddy to fuck me like the filthy whore I am, I want to scream for Daddy until the whole neighborhood knows I belong to you.” He gasped as his father moved, laying Kurloz on his back and leaning over him. He hadn’t let his hips move from where they were pinned against him, making Kurloz whine and squirm, “Please, Daddy… Fill me up with your cum…” That seemed to be the breaking point, his father picking himself up slightly to rake his burning gaze over Kurloz and meet his eye,

“Good boy.” He growled, pulling his hips back as he hoisted Kurloz’s legs up to his broad shoulders. Kurloz shuddered, trying to cling to his father, only to throw his head back with a loud cry as his father rammed into him, starting a brutal pace. He gave up on holding his father’s shoulders, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets instead as his back arched off the bed, his screams echoing off the walls. “Yes, scream for me! Scream for your Daddy!” Kurloz could barely think straight, but with some effort, managed to form words,

“D-Daddy!! Oh god, Daddy,  _ yes!! _ ” His pitch spiked when his hips shifted just so, and he squeezed around his father, eliciting a loud groan and a bruising grip on his hips,

“Fuck, you feel so good! I’m gonna wreck your tight little ass!” He thrust even harder, and it was all Kurloz could do to hold on, helplessly screaming and urging him on until a new tension coiled in his gut, and his legs quivered, toes curling,

“D-Daddy, I- I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum-!” His father snarled posessively, leaning over him,

“Cum for your Daddy. Scream my name and cum all over yourself, slut.” Kurloz shuddered, arching and reaching up to wrap his arms around the larger man’s neck, desperately chasing his finish. He didn’t have to wait long with how rough and hard his father was being, throwing his head back as pleasure overtook him,

“G-Grant!!” He cried, shuddering hard with the powerful orgasm, his father growling and biting down on his shoulder as he tugged Kurloz’s hips back insistently, shoving deep inside him with a final, loud groan. Kurloz just tried to catch his breath, going limp on the bed while his father rocked his hips slowly for a few moments, and then pulled free, sighing,

“God damn… You sounded so good… I want to fuck you all over again just to hear you say my name like that again.” Kurloz didn’t have the energy to respond, closing his eyes and letting his father move him around until his head was on a pillow, the larger man curling around him from behind, “Mm, maybe after some rest.” He mused, pressing a soft kiss to Kurloz’s neck and brushing some hair from his face, “Daddy loves you.” Kurloz cracked one eye open to look up at him with a tired smile,

“Love you too, Daddy…” He was so tired… Every part of his body still hummed with pleasure. Nothing mattered right now besides sleep.


	5. Promise to Keep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abused beyond limit, desperate for a change, Kurloz's fragile mind clings to any affection he's given. He just wants to be loved. To feel wanted.

The first thing he noticed was that he was on his back. He was still groggy and just waking up, but something felt off. Kurloz groaned quietly, shifting a little, only to gasp when doing so sent a wave of pleasure through him. Movement. Something was moving inside him slowly, barely brushing against sensitive areas. He opened his eyes, blinking away sleep and saw his dad leaning over him. The older man smirked when their eyes met, and Kurloz moaned as the fingers curled inside him, rubbing the sensitive nerves directly,

“Sleep well?” His father asked, and Kurloz nodded, squirming and rocking his hips back on the thrusting fingers, “You looked so nice while you were sleeping, I couldn’t help myself.” The fingers switched to a pace too slow to get enough pleasure, and Kurloz squirmed, “Does Daddy’s little whore want more?” Kurloz bit his lip, looking down. His father touching him in his sleep had aroused him, and his father was similarly hard, stroking himself. Sleep still held his rational brain out of reach, so he nodded,

“Please, Daddy… Make me feel good…” He pleaded quietly, and his father smirked, pulling his fingers out and shifting closer,

“Tell Daddy what you want.” He urged, switching hands to coat himself with lube. Kurloz spread his legs wide, exposing himself completely,

“I want Daddy inside me.” His breath hitched as his father began to press inside him, easily obliging, “I-I want Daddy to fill me up.” His father pressed all the way into him, leaning down to give Kurloz a deep, slow kiss,

“Daddy loves you.” He whispered, and Kurloz shivered at how loving it sounded. He wrapped his arms around his father’s neck as the larger man slowly pulled back,

“Love you too, Daddy.” He murmured in return, and his father began a slow, gentle pace, pulling almost all the way out and then sliding back in. Kurloz shuddered and arched, little noises slipping from his mouth each time their hips pressed together.

“Mm, my good boy…” His father sighed, pressing their foreheads together and holding his gaze, “My Kurloz…” Kurloz shivered at hearing his name, craving the affection held in his father’s voice, clinging to him a little tighter,

“Daddy… It feels so good…” His father hummed, running a hand through Kurloz’s hair,

“You like that, Kurloz?” The lean one whimpered at hearing his name again, “You like when Daddy fucks you nice and slow?” Kurloz nodded, and his father smiled, “You want Daddy to keep going? Want Daddy to make love to you?” Kurloz nodded earnestly, tangling his hands in his father’s hair,

“Yes, Daddy, please. I want it.” His father chuckled softly, coming to a stop, pressed deep inside Kurloz, who whined and squirmed,

“I want you to promise me something, Kurloz.” His father said seriously. The younger man looked up at him, “Promise you’ll be mine. Not just as Daddy’s little boy, but as my lover. Give yourself to me completely, and I’ll make sure we’re happy together.” Happy. He wanted to be happy. He wanted to keep feeling good, to hear his father say his name so fondly. He nodded,

“I promise.” He replied, and his father relaxed, smiling lovingly as he caressed Kurloz’s cheek,

“Thank you.” He murmured, pulling his hips back to continue the long, slow thrusts. Kurloz moaned softly, rolling his hips to meet each thrust, closing his eyes and feeling his father’s hands roam his chest, “I love you, Kurloz.” He continued softly, and Kurloz shivered, “I love you so much. My beautiful boy. My Kurloz.” Kurloz shivered again, the slow rise of pleasure and the words mixing so well in his head. He wanted to hear it again. He needed it. He craved it.

“I love you too.” He replied, his breath catching in his throat when he rolled his hips, causing a bloom of pleasure, “Please, Daddy… I want more…” His father obliged, rocking his hips faster, getting a shaky moan from Kurloz, who arched up,

“I love you.” He repeated, “I love your eyes, your lips, your soft hands…” He took one of Kurloz’s hands, lacing their fingers together and pressing it to the bed beside Kurloz, “I love those sweet little noises you make, I love how you squeeze my cock…” He pressed in a little harder, groaning at the internal squeeze he was rewarded with, “I love everything about you. I want to keep you with me forever, spend all my time with you in my arms.” Kurloz whimpered, clinging to his father’s hand as he moved faster, “I love you, Kurloz.” Kurloz moaned, his legs rising to wrap around his father’s waist,

“Oh god, Daddy,” He gasped, writhing a little, “D-don’t stop, don’t stop, it feels so good, please don’t stop.” He gave his father a pleading look, “You’re driving me crazy and I want  _ more _ . Please, Daddy, give me more!” His father groaned, holding Kurloz’s hip with his free hand and thrusting harder, earning a pleasured cry,

“I love seeing you come undone for me.” He murmured into Kurloz’s shoulder, scraping his teeth over the exposed skin, “I love hearing you beg for me.” Kurloz moaned, bucking into his thrusts, “I love you. I love you. I love you.” Kurloz’s arm around his shoulders tightened, pressing them closer together, and he kept repeating the phrase over and over. Kurloz fell apart more and more with each time he heard it, quivering and on the verge of tears even as his body begged for release,

“D-Daddy, please!” He cried, “Please, I want to cum! I need it so bad!” His father pressed a kiss to his neck, lifting their clasped hands and kissing Kurloz’s knuckles,

“Let go, Kurloz. Give yourself to me.” Kurloz writhed, his father shifting his angle just enough to make him cry out,

“I-I love you! I love you, I love you, oh god, I love you so much- G-Grant!!” He shouted his name, shuddering as he came, his father groaning against his neck,

“I love you, Kurloz. I’ll always love you.” He tugged Kurloz’s hip back into the thrusts, “God, you’re so beautiful. My beautiful boy. I love you so much.” His breath hitched, and he pressed deep into Kurloz, groaning and spilling his fluid inside him. Kurloz made a soft content hum, nuzzling his father’s shoulder. This felt right. He was loved. Grant loved him. Wanted him. Cherished him. Kurloz never wanted to lose this feeling.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell, his father huffing a little as he lifted Kurloz into his arms, carrying him to the bathroom. Kurloz leaned on his shoulder, watching as the tub began to fill with water. Another bath sounded perfect right now. Again, the muffled sound of the doorbell intruded on the comfortable silence. Kurloz glanced at Grant, who was focused on pouring some sweet-smelling fluid into the bath, which foamed up into bubbles.

“Are you…?” Kurloz began, but Grant shook his head,

“I don’t care who it is. You’re far more important.” He stated simply, and Kurloz smiled, nuzzling his neck a little. Grant added a couple more things to the bath, then let it fill up before turning off the water and stepping in. Kurloz sighed as they sank into the hot water and bubbles, getting comfortable in his father’s lap and closing his eyes. Grant’s arms settled around him, soaking up the relaxing sensations with him, and they sat there in silence for a long moment. Eventually, Grant lifted a hand out of the water, tipping Kurloz’s head up to kiss him softly, “I love you, Kurloz.” He murmured, and Kurloz smiled, leaning into another kiss,

“I love you too, Grant.” He replied softly, hearing his father sigh a little, a smile tugging his lips up,

“It’s so nice to hear you say my name.” He let his fingers trail down Kurloz’s neck, and Kurloz realized the collar was gone. When had he taken that off? “But I love hearing you moan my name, too.” Kurloz shivered as the fingers continued down his chest, his face flushing a little,

“I like when you say my name, too.” He admitted, feeling almost embarrassed to say it, but getting a little chuckle from the larger man, “It feels special.” Grant smiled wider, his hand resting on Kurloz’s thigh,

“You are special, Kurloz. You’re perfect.” Kurloz smiled warmly, wrapping his arms around Grant’s neck and closing his eyes. They stayed there a while longer, enjoying the bath as it unwound all their tense muscles, filling their senses with sweet scents and calm silence. The peace was interrupted by a gurgle from Grant’s stomach, and Kurloz snickered a little, nuzzling him,

“Maybe we should make dinner.” He offered, and Grant hummed in agreement, pulling the stopper out of the drain. Kurloz climbed out of the bath, wrapping a towel around himself as Grant got out as well. They dried off, and Kurloz went to find his clothes, retrieving them from the floor to put them on. Grant just stayed in a towel, heading to the kitchen, and Kurloz followed.

“Pick what you like, I’ll make us dinner.” Grant said, and Kurloz smiled, pulling out some pizza rolls he’d been saving in the freezer. Grant chuckled, ruffling his hair gently before turning to the oven. Kurloz smiled, going to the couch and flipping on the TV, settling to watch something about animals while he waited.

A plate of pizza rolls was handed to him, and Grant sat down beside him. They watched TV while they ate, and Kurloz leaned against Grant, savoring the quiet moment. After Grant set his plate aside, he combed his fingers through Kurloz’s hair, drawing him into a kiss,

“Gamzee will come back tonight.” He said, and Kurloz blinked. Right. His brother. “Let’s keep this between us, okay? It’ll be our secret.” Kurloz nodded, and Grant took his hand, squeezing it gently, “I love you.” Kurloz smiled, lifting their hands to kiss Grant’s palm softly, nuzzling into it,

“Love you too.” His father smiled, getting up,

“After Gamzee goes to bed, come to my room. I’ll be waiting for you.” Kurloz nodded, watching him go, then turned his attention back to the show he was watching. Sure enough, Gamzee returned before long, but judging by the distinctive smell on him, and the wide grin on his face, he wasn’t worried about Kurloz now. The older brother just waved at him as he went to grab some snacks and went to his room. Kurloz waited a little longer before turning off the TV, going to check his brother’s door. The light was off, but he could hear Gamzee humming absently. He wouldn’t fall asleep right away, but that was normal. Kurloz headed to his father’s room, slipping in and closing the door behind him. Grant was waiting on the bed, smiling at Kurloz and gesturing for him to come join him. Kurloz climbed onto the bed, noting his father was still only in a towel, though the towel did nothing to hide the fact that he was stroking himself slowly.

“And you call me eager.” Kurloz teased, Grant chuckling and pulling him into a kiss,

“I was imagining your mouth on me, and I couldn’t help myself. I just want to have you all the time.” Grant tugged the towel open, exposing himself completely and shifting his legs apart, “Come on.” Kurloz hesitated, then knelt between Grant’s legs, bending down to take the large head into his mouth. His tongue rubbed over it, and he sucked gently, bobbing his head a little. Grant groaned, tangling his fingers in Kurloz’s hair, “Daddy’s good little boy…” He sighed, rocking his hips slightly, “Relax your throat a little, you can take more that way.” Kurloz took a deep breath, giving it a try as he sank down, feeling the tip brush against the back of his throat before his gag reflex made him pull back again. Grant groaned softly, “Good boy… You’re so good, Kurloz… I love you so much…” Kurloz hummed quietly, dipping his head down again, and back up, earning another groan and a twitch of his father’s hips, “You’re getting so good at sucking Daddy’s cock.” Kurloz glanced up, meeting his father’s eyes as he rubbed his tongue on the length filling his mouth, sucking harder. Grant groaned, gripping his hair slightly, “God, just watching you makes me want to fuck your throat.” Kurloz gasped as he was tugged down, briefly gagging when the head pushed into his throat, pulling back to cough a little,

“D-Daddy’s gonna hurt me, doing that.” He gasped, but Grant just chuckled, pushing him back down a bit,

“Don’t you want to choke on my cock, Kurloz?” He asked, “You won’t learn how to take all of it if you don’t push your limits.” Kurloz hesitated, then sighed, nodding,

“You’re right.” He admitted, leaning in to take his father into his mouth again, taking a deep breath and sinking further. He focused on relaxing as much as he could, fighting back his gag reflex to take more. Grant groaned quietly, pressing on his head slowly to keep him moving down.

“That’s it… Take it all…” Kurloz shuddered, his body struggling to handle this, but he kept going until his stomach churned in warning, and he had to pull back, gasping for air. Grant pet his hair, smiling at him, “You did so well, Kurloz. Daddy’s so proud of you.” Kurloz smiled, shifting a little on his knees. He was getting aroused, hearing the noises Grant made, and Grant noticed him squirm, smirking, “Does my slut want something?” Kurloz flushed, sitting up,

“I just… You make me feel so good…” Grant chuckled, reaching between Kurloz’s legs to rub his crotch, drawing a moan from his lips, “B-but Daddy wanted my mouth…” Grant pushed his sweater up, and Kurloz pulled it off, getting up on his knees so Grant could undo his pants and push them down, admiring Kurloz’s erection,

“But Daddy loves watching you cum on yourself.” He said, moving to the side and laying Kurloz on his back, “So Daddy has decided to watch instead. Touch yourself, Kurloz. Stroke your cock for Daddy.” Kurloz bit his lip, kicking his pants off completely and wrapping a hand around himself. He started slow, teasing himself and just feeling out a rhythm. He closed his eyes, sighing softly and moving his hand a little faster,

“Mm, Daddy…” He moaned quietly, jolting when Grant’s lips suddenly pressed against his own, muffling his noises. Kurloz returned the kisses, his free hand reaching up to cling to Grant while the larger man wrapped an arm around him, holding him close,

“You look so beautiful, Kurloz.” Grant murmured between kisses, “All hard and needy… So willing for me…” Kurloz moved his hand faster, moaning into another kiss, “If we were still alone I’d fuck you right now.” Kurloz shivered, opening his eyes, met with the burning gaze raking over his body, “If I could, I’d fuck you again and again, until your ass couldn’t hold any more of my cum, and then I’d fuck your mouth.” Imagining Grant filling him up made Kurloz shudder, bucking up into his hand,

“Daddy’s gonna make his slut even hungrier if he keeps talking.” He moaned, and Grant chuckled, kissing him again,

“But Daddy’s slut can’t keep quiet when Daddy’s cock is inside him. And we don’t want your brother finding out our secret, do we?” Kurloz shook his head, biting his lip, “Exactly. So you’re just gonna have to imagine Daddy fucking you while you touch yourself.” Kurloz moaned, bucking into his hand as he squeezed himself, the memory vivid in his mind,

“Daddy feels so good inside me… Filling me up with his big cock…” He groaned quietly, arching his back, “Fucking me hard… Making me scream…” He heard Grant groan, and he moved his hand faster, “I’m so close… I’m gonna cum…” Grant kissed him fiercely, sounding a little breathless, and Kurloz could feel his other hand moving between them, no doubt stroking himself again,

“Cum for me, Kurloz. Show Daddy how good he makes you feel.” Kurloz’s breath hitched, and he opened his eyes to watch Grant stroke himself, matching his own urgent pace. He shuddered, thrusting into his hand and gasping,

“So close… so close…!” Grant crushed their lips together just before Kurloz came, stifling his cry. He pulled back again when Kurloz relaxed, trying to catch his breath. Kurloz watched him get up, kneeling over the leaner one and holding his head,

“Take Daddy’s cum, you hungry slut.” Kurloz obeyed, opening his mouth and leaning closer. Grant groaned above him, shuddering and bucking his hips as he let go. Kurloz waited until he was sure he got it all, closing his mouth and swallowing, looking up at Grant, who smiled down at him, moving to lay beside him again, “Such a good boy, Kurloz. I didn't even have to tell you.” Kurloz hummed, letting Grant pull him into a deep kiss, “I love you, Kurloz.” He whispered, tugging the blanket over them, and Kurloz nestled into his warm chest,

“Love you too, Grant.” He murmured back. He probably could have gone back to his room, but he didn’t want to leave Grant’s arms, and he was already comfortable, anyway. He’d enjoy this a while longer.


	6. Shattered Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say that anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. And Kurloz has the biggest build-up of Murphy's Law at his back. Happy endings never come easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My wife read some of this story, and it made her cry. I am officially The Worst Person. Sorry.
> 
> Also sorry for the long wait, my computer is a piece of junk, and it's a hassle to deal with, so I was procrastinating on posing more chapters. I have a couple more coming, hang tight.
> 
> BTW self harm warning in this chapter.

Gamzee was completely unaware of their secret. Kurloz had been woken by his father getting up to go shower, gotten a kiss as he left the room and had taken his time leaving the comfort of the soft sheets and expansive bed. He listened to Gamzee’s muffled noises in the kitchen, heard them leave the house, Grant to work, Gamzee to school, and once the house was silent, he finally emerged from the warmth, making use of Grant’s shower to clean himself up, sighing happily in the hot water. He stole a towel to dry off, getting dressed and brushing his hair before setting to work gathering the discarded clothes and towels from the weekend, carrying them to the washing machine. He slipped into Gamzee’s room, navigating the mess of empty bottles and clown horns to collect his clothes and add them to the load, setting the machine to run. With that done, he made his way to the kitchen, cooking a simple breakfast and filling the dishwasher, humming softly to himself as he worked. The chores done for now, he checked his phone, seeing a text from Grant.

_ I left something in your room for you. You’d better be wearing it when I come home. _

Left him something? Curious, he went to his room, quickly spotting the gift. A large, purple plug was waiting on his bed beside a bottle of lube. Kurloz blushed, going to pick it up and examine it, feeling the oddly velvety texture of the toy. He guessed it was a fancy silicone, but the size made him bite his lip. Grant wanted him to be stretched out before he even came home. Clearly he had plans. He set it back down, glancing at the clock. Gamzee would get home before Grant, so he set an alarm on his phone for half an hour before school would end. That would give him time to put the toy in place and get used to it before he was no longer alone. He left his room, moving around the house and cleaning up here and there, going to put the clothes in the dryer when they finished, and putting away dishes afterward. He pulled out his sketchbook and colored pencils, settling by the dryer as he waited, sketching curving lines that intertwined into the abstract shape of a laughing clown face, coloring it in bright hues.

Once he finished, he held it up, admiring how the colors twisted together and blended to make the face show up a little better. He smiled, getting up and pulling out the warm clothes, sorting them and taking Gamzee’s to his room, leaving them in a heap on his bed. He took Grant’s back to his room, folding them neatly and stacking them on the dresser in his large closet. Gamzee wasn’t picky, but he wanted to show Grant he made the effort to fold them for him, taking his own clothes to hang up in his closet. With the house clean, he took his sketchbook to the couch, turning on a documentary for background noise, checking his phone and turning on the volume so he could hear it if he got a message, and finally settling to draw some more.

He spent a few hours there, making more and more drawings, forced to stop when his stomach demanded food. He took his time with lunch, distractedly doodling on a page in his sketchbook, filling it with clown faces in all kinds of expressions. He went back to the couch, stretching out and staring at a fresh page, considering for a few moments before beginning to draw. Grant’s face came to life on the page, his dark eyes watching him intently as he drew his long hair, the messy curls tumbling down behind him. He slowed, looking at the sketched curls thoughtfully. His hair was a wild mess, and yet when Kurloz’s hands moved through it, it held little resistance, not nearly as many unruly tangles as Gamzee’s. He must take incredibly good care of it to keep it so soft. Kurloz switched to his shading pencil, filling in the depth of those curls. He wanted to run his fingers through it, maybe brush it out.

He jolted when his phone’s alarm went off. Had it gotten that late already? He closed his sketchbook, going to his room. His face heated up when he saw the toy still waiting for him. He sat on the bed, feeling the toy’s surface again, then shook himself and laid back, pushing his pants down to his knees. He opened the bottle and coated his fingers, biting his lip as he pressed the first inside. He whimpered softly when he pushed the second in, thrusting them slowly. He could almost feel Grant’s eyes burning into him, and he arched, panting softly. The third was met with some resistance, but Kurloz pushed past it with a quiet moan, curling his fingers a little and gasping when they rubbed against a sensitive spot. He thrust his fingers a few times, trying to spread himself as wide as he possibly could to accommodate the toy. Finally he pulled his fingers out, trying to catch his breath as he coated the purple toy in lube, bring it to his entrance. He bit his lip as he began to slowly press it inside, letting out a shuddering moan as it spread him out wider and wider the further it went. He wondered if he could even get it all inside. He cried out as it finally slipped in, the flat base stopping the whole thing from disappearing inside him as he squirmed, trying to adjust to the strange sensation inside him. It was so big, but the tapered shape didn’t fill him up the same way Grant did. He took a moment just to breathe before wiping his hand off with a couple tissues, pulling his pants back on. He whimpered when he sat up, the toy shifting a little inside him. He took a deep breath, getting up and heading back downstairs, curling up on the couch again to finish another drawing. He flipped to the next page and began sketching as Gamzee came inside,

“Heeeey, Kurbro!” His brother called, and Kurloz lifted his arm to wave, “So, the weirdest thing happened today. I got called to the office, but it wasn’t cause I did somethin’ bad.” Kurloz glanced up, tilting his head as Gamzee kicked his shoes off, “There was this cop waitin’ with the counselor and the principal, and they was askin’ all these questions.” Kurloz raised an eyebrow, and Gamzee shrugged, coming to sit on the couch beside him, dropping his bag on the ground, “It was stuff like what life was like at home and weird shit like that.” He laughed, “I didn't really get it, but I told ‘em what I could.” Kurloz frowned a little. Why would they… His stomach flipped a little. Pyrope. He’d completely forgotten. She was trying to get evidence from Gamzee too. He stared at the sketches before him, Grant with his hair in a ponytail, Grant with his hair falling over one shoulder, Grant pushing his hair out of his face as wind moved it around. He chewed his lip a little, then looked back up at his brother. It was their secret. And he’d told a lawyer who wanted to separate them. When Grant found out… “Anyway, it was motherfuckin’ weird. Can I have the remote?” Kurloz nodded silently, passing him the TV remote and continuing to sketch. Worry gnawed at him, and he shifted, biting back a noise when the plug moved slightly. His phone beeped, and he checked it.

_ Coming home. _

Kurloz glanced at Gamzee, sighing quietly. Grant would be home in about half an hour. He flipped to the next page, staring at it. His hand moved, starting to sketch, and the lines once again became Grant, sprawled out lazily in bed, only covered by the sheets, a sly smirk tugging at his lips and a knowing look in his eyes. He was halfway through shading it when the door opened and shut, the TV’s volume dropping abruptly.

“Gamzee. Go do your damn homework.” Their father growled, and Gamzee turned off the TV, snatching up his bag and hurrying to his room. Kurloz listened to the door shut, to the heavy footsteps cross the room, looking up as a shadow fell over him. Grant caught his lips in a kiss, and Kurloz gasped softly, almost dropping his pencil. “Hello, Kurloz.” He said softly, pulling back to smile at him fondly, “I hope you did what I asked.” Kurloz barely held back a whimper as Grant’s hand slid between his thighs, feeling his ass and the hard base of the toy. His smile spread to a grin, “Such a good boy… Go wait on my bed.” Kurloz nodded, closing his sketchbook and putting away his pencils, getting up and heading to his father’s room. Gamzee had some music playing in his room as he passed, and Kurloz was privately relieved. He slipped into the room, climbing onto the bed and waiting. Grant came in a couple moments later, tugging off his tie as he smirked at Kurloz, “I’ve been thinking about this all day.” He said, climbing on the bed and grabbing Kurloz’s jaw, opening his mouth and putting the tie inside, wrapping it around his head and tying it firmly. Kurloz made a noise of protest, but the tie acted as a gag, making it hard to form words around the silk. Grant smirked, pushing him on his back, grabbing his wrists, and taking out the cuffs to lock them above him. Kurloz squirmed, whimpering and tugging on the cuffs,

“Gran’?” The word was muffled, but the larger one got the meaning of it, smiling at him,

“I’m not punishing you.” He assured, “The cuffs are just so I can see you completely exposed to me.” He pushed Kurloz’s shirt up, hands roaming his chest, and Kurloz arched into the touch, gasping when his nipples were pinched. Grant chuckled, moving his hands down and tugging off Kurloz’s pants. He smiled when he saw the toy, spreading Kurloz’s legs to admire him, “Such a good boy… You look like the perfect whore right now, all gagged and tied up for me. And once I take this out…” He pulled on the toy lightly, testing the resistance and making Kurloz moan around the silk tie, “Then I can see how well that gag keeps you quiet.” Kurloz whined, squirming a little, and Grant looked him over one more time, “God damn, you look so nice…” He unbuttoned his shirt, tugging it free of his pants as he undid them and pushed them down, letting his cock out, which was already getting hard even before he began stroking it, “I should use more toys on you another time.” He mused, digging out a bottle of lube to get his cock slicked, not taking his eyes off Kurloz. The younger man squirmed again, whimpering and tugging on the cuffs again, “What’s wrong, Kurloz? Do you want Daddy’s cock?” Kurloz nodded, whining a little, “Just hold still so I can take the toy out.” Grant grabbed the base of the toy, pulling gently, and Kurloz whimpered, his back arching up slightly. His body resisted letting go for a moment, only for the wide part of the rounded cone to pop out, making Kurloz gasp and jolt. “There we go…” Grant praised, taking the toy out and setting it aside, moving a little closer, “Your ass is just begging to be filled up again, isn’t it?” Kurloz nodded eagerly, and Grant hummed in approval, wasting no time to press into the lean one.

Kurloz was grateful for the tie muffling him, struggling to keep his volume quiet enough that Gamzee wouldn’t hear while Grant thrust hard into him, muttering praises to him. Kurloz’s wrists were sore from tugging against the restraints, but he hardly noticed between the flood of pleasure he was given. He writhed, barely choking back a cry into a keen, bucking his hips when they were tugged back into each rough thrust. Grant groaned quietly, gripping his hips tighter,

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight… You gonna cum for me?” Kurloz nodded, moaning around the tie, “Good boy. Give Daddy what he wants. Cum all over yourself, slut.” Kurloz tossed his head back when Grant shifted slightly, hitting just the right angle to make his pitch rise, biting down on the tie to muffle his cries, coming undone moments later. Grant groaned, leaning over him a little more, “That’s a good boy… Such a filthy whore… Daddy’s little cockslut…” Kurloz moaned, squeezing around him again, earning another groan, “My Kurloz.” He moaned finally, burying himself in Kurloz and letting go. They stayed there for a moment, catching their breath before Grant reached behind Kurloz’s head, undoing the knot and pulling the tie away. Kurloz sighed, stretching his jaw a little to work out a little of the tension, “Did you like that?” Grant asked, and Kurloz blushed, nodding shyly,

“I-I did…” He said, and Grant smiled, pulling out of him and undoing the cuffs,

“You looked so perfect, I couldn’t hold back.” He drew Kurloz into his arms, kissing him softly, “I love you.” Kurloz sighed, wrapping his arms around him,

“I love you too.” He ran his hands through Grant’s hair, the wild curls just as soft as he remembered, and he smiled a little, making Grant chuckle,

“Jealous?” He asked, but Kurloz shook his head,

“Appreciating.” He kept playing with it until Grant sat up,

“I’m getting hungry. Go make us dinner.” Kurloz got up, ducking into the bathroom to wipe off the mess on his skin, and then getting dressed. He quietly left Grant’s room, relieved to hear Gamzee’s music still playing in his room. He headed to the kitchen, getting out some ingredients. They’d need to get groceries soon, he noted, chopping vegetables and meat. Gamzee wandered into the kitchen, grabbing a faygo from the fridge and going to lean on his taller brother,

“Whatcha makin’?” He asked, opening the bottle and taking a gulp.

“Stir-fry.” Kurloz replied, and Gamzee hummed, watching him add ingredients to the pan and listening to them sizzle. Kurloz piled cooked ingredients in a large bowl, mixing them together with some sauce. Gamzee took a deep breath and sighed, resting his chin on Kurloz’s shoulder,

“That smells really good, Kurbro.” He drawled, and Kurloz smiled, nudging him off so he could take the bowl to the table, setting out plates for them, “Want me to call Dad?” Kurloz nodded, sitting down and waiting as Gamzee went to the hallway, “Dad! Food’s ready!” He shouted, coming back to the table to sit and wait as the larger man came to the kitchen, sitting down and taking some food. Kurloz avoided looking at Grant as he got some food for himself, eating quietly. Grant grunted a little after a few bites,

“Not bad.” He said gruffly. Kurloz glanced up, seeing Grant looking at him, his lips curved up in the tiniest smile. Kurloz looked back down at his plate, hiding his own smile with a bite of food.

Kurloz had just started cleaning up the dishes from dinner when there was a knock on the door. He heard Grant make an annoyed growl, going to answer the door. Kurloz paused his cleaning, going to the doorway of the kitchen to listen.

“Grant Makara?” A stern voice asked, and there was a moment of silence before Grant spoke,

“Can I help you, officer?” His voice was low, barely holding back his anger, and Kurloz’s gut twisted with dread. It was happening.

“Sir, we have a warrant for your arrest. Please turn around and put your hands behind your back.” A deep growl made Kurloz flinch, shrinking back into the kitchen,

“For what?” Grant growled,

“Domestic abuse.” The officer said bluntly, “Now please turn around and put your hands behind your back.” Kurloz pressed against the wall, shaking a little.

“Kurloz.” He jolted when Grant called his name, biting his lip, but forcing himself to move, going to the end of the hallway to see his father with his back to the officer, getting handcuffed. His dark eyes burned holes into the younger one, who stayed close to the wall, “Look after your brother.” Kurloz nodded, trying not to shrink away from the angry glare aimed at him. The meaning behind that look was terrifying enough without the threat needing to be spoken aloud. The officer led Grant out the door, and a second officer gave him a sympathetic smile,

“Everything’s gonna be okay, son.” He said, “You kids got somewhere you can stay?” Gamzee came up beside Kurloz, taking his shaking hand and squeezing it,

“Uh… Not really? But Kurbro’s over eighteen, so… Can we just stay here?” The officer glanced behind him, then back, sighing,

“For now. We’ll come check on you, alright?” Kurloz nodded, and the officer shut the door, leaving the brothers in silence. Kurloz’s knees gave out, and he slumped to the floor, burying his face in his hands. This was all his fault. He shouldn’t have said anything. If only he knew what Grant would do before he told Pyrope… He whimpered a little, trembling and curling up.

“Kurbro? What’s wrong? Dad can’t hurt us now.” Gamzee tried to reassure him, but Kurloz just shook his head, voice caught in his throat. Gamzee didn’t know. He wouldn’t understand. Even if he didn’t get a severe sentence, Kurloz knew Grant would find a way to punish him when he got back. He yelped when his phone rang, pulling it out and looking at the caller ID. Mrs. Pyrope. Kurloz leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath and answering,

“Yeah?” He tried to keep the trembling out of his voice and hold the phone steady 

“The officers told me he’s been picked up. Are you okay?” No. He wanted to take back everything he told her yesterday and forget anything had happened in the last ten minutes.

“I’m fine… Me and Gamzee are okay.” He said slowly, glancing up at his brother, who gave him a worried frown, “Just… Kinda shaken up, is all…”

“That’s understandable. I can come pick you up if you want to get out of the house for a few days.” Kurloz bit his lip, looking around. Leave the house empty while Grant was taken into custody?

“N-no, no, we’ll be fine. Besides, Gamzee still has to go to school. It’d be too much hassle to commute to and from the school if we were there.” She made a noise of agreement, even if she didn’t sound happy about it,

“Alright. Grant’s either going to plead guilty and face his sentence, or he’ll try to argue my proof. Either way, I’ve got this handled. If you need anything, just let me know.” Kurloz had to stop himself from asking her to drop the charges, just staring at the floor,

“Mhm.” She hung up, and Kurloz set his phone down, taking a deep breath. Everything was going wrong. He was just thinking he could be happy, and now his mistakes were slapping him in the face. He ran a hand through his hair, getting up slowly.

“Kurbro?” Gamzee tried to get his attention, but Kurloz just stepped around him, grabbing his sketchbook and pencils and retreating to his room, locking the door. He flipped through his drawings, his good moments and bad, stopping on the first drawing of Grant. The intense stare of his eyes felt more accusatory now, and Kurloz whimpered softly. This was all his fault. He flipped to the next page, tracing a finger over the curls of hair on the page. He flipped to the next page, and his breath caught in his throat. The drawing of Grant watched him with a coy smirk, and Kurloz bit his lip. He wanted to be in that moment. To lay beside Grant and have the large man’s strong arms wrapped around him. He wanted to hear Grant say he loved him again, to feel their lips meet… Kurloz turned the page, faced with a blank sheet. He stared at it for a long moment, then closed his eyes, sighing and hanging his head. He didn’t deserve Grant’s love. Didn’t deserve to hear sweet nothings whispered to him, or feel his hands caress his skin lovingly.

He selected a pencil, shifting slightly and beginning to draw, his own lithe form appearing before him, arms bound above him, suspended by a chain, his knees barely supporting his body while the chain did the rest of the work. Kurloz chewed on his lip, giving himself the minimum decency of boxers, even if he made them torn and dirty. The details were what he was most interested in, adding wounds and injuries all over his body, accentuating the begging look on his face to emphasize his remorse that got him into this situation, making sure to add the collar around his neck, unmarred even as he colored in dark bruises on his skin. He continued to add color to the countless injuries, deep purple bruises, bleeding cuts, angry red welts… His vision blurred, and he wiped away the tears that snuck up on him, determined to finish shading the drawing before scrawling  _ I’M SORRY _ over and over again in the blank space, turning the background from white to a messy grey tangle of apologies. He kept the center clear, as if a lone beam of light cast down on him, staring at the tortured image of himself. He set the sketchbook aside, flopping onto his bed and staring at the ceiling. He wouldn’t be truly sorry until he received his punishment from Grant. But he didn’t know how long Grant would be gone, or what he’d do, but the apologies screaming in his head didn’t feel like enough. He needed to be punished now.

He rolled over, opening the drawer on his bedside table and digging around inside. His hands closed around the handle of a small knife, and he pulled it out, tugging off his shirt to stare at his skin. It had been years since he’d last done this, the thin scars were faded, but he remembered them well, tracing the tip of the knife over the lines on his arm. His wrists had red marks from the cuffs, but that wasn’t enough. He pressed the knife into his skin, hissing as it sliced open, and blood welled up from the fresh opening. He watched it, setting the knife aside and smearing the blood down his arm. It helped a little, to feel the sting of pain, and he closed his eyes. It would have to do for now. Hopefully it would tide him over until Grant came back.

“I’m sorry…” He murmured, pressing his thumb to the wound and whimpering at the pain, “I’m so sorry…”


End file.
